THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


TOBIAS  O'  THE  LIGHT 


' 


BOOKS     BY 
JAMES    A.   COOPER 


CAP'N  ABE,  STOREKEEPER 
CAP'N  JONAH'S  FORTUNE 
TOBIAS  0'  THE  LIGHT 


The  wallowing:  motor-boat  was  still  right  side  up. 
There  seemed  to  be  but  one  person  in  it.  (See  Page  67) 


TOBIAS  o'  THE  LIGHT 

A  STORY  OF  CAPE  COD 


BY 

JAMES  A.  COOPER 

AUTHOR  OF  "€AP'N  ABE,  STOREKEEPER"  AND 
"CAP'N  JONAH'S  FORTUNE" 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 
JOSEPH  WYKOFF 


NEW  YORK 

GEORGE  SULLY  fcf  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1920,  BY 
GEORGE  SULLY  &  COMPANY 


All  rights  reserved 


PRINTED   IN   U.  8.  A. 


- 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT i 

II.    CONFIDENCES 15 

III.  THE  APEX  OF  THE  STORM  ....  25 

IV.  PROPHECIES 35 

V.     THE  UNEXPECTED 43 

VI.     DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES 54 

VII.    A  NEWCOMER 63 

VIII.  PHILOSOPHY  AND  OTHER  THINGS   .      .  74 

IX.  THE  DROP  OF  WORMWOOD  ....  84 

X.    STARTING  SOMETHING 95 

XI.     THE  BLACK  SQUALL 104 

XII.    TROUBLED  WATERS 116 

XIII.  CROSS  PURPOSES 131 

XIV.  A  VARIETY  OF  HAPPENINGS       .      .      .  140 
XV.     DECISIVE  ACTION ±51 

XVI.     POISON 163 

XVII.    REAL  TROUBLE 176 

XVIII.     A  CLUE 188 

XIX.    SUSPICIONS 197 


1763068 


vi  Contents 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XX.  PUT  TO  THE  QUESTION     ....  209 

XXL  THE  RISING  TIDE  OF  DOUBT     .     .  221. 

XXII.  WHAT  FRETS  LORNA  ...     .     .     .  231 

XXIII.  MORE  THAN  WEATHER  INDICATIONS  243 

XXIV.  UNDERSTANDING     .     .     .     .     .     .  253 

XXV.  ACROSS  THE  YEARS 273 

XXVI.  HIGH  TIDE 283 

XXVII.  WHAT  THE  NIGHT  BROUGHT       .     .  291 

XXVIII.  DESPERATION 302 

XXIX.  DAYBREAK 315 

XXX.  A  SILVER-BANDED  PIPE    .      .      .      .323 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

The  wallowing  motor-boat  was  still  right  side  up. 
There  seemed  to  be  but  one  person  in  it.  (See 
Page  67) Frontispiece 


FACING 
FACE 


"I'll  run  up  to  the  light  to  dress, "  she  said    .     .  138 

"Oh,  sugar,  Heppy!    What's  the  matter  o'  ye?"  212 

"We  must  do  something!"  she  cried.     "Tobias! 

We  must!" 298 


Vll 


TOBIAS  O'  THE  LIGHT 


TOBIAS  O'  THE  LIGHT 


CHAPTER  I 

A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT 

OLD  WINTER  wrapped  in  his  grave  clothes  stalked 
the  flats  and  sand  dunes  about  the  Twin  Rocks  Light. 
Spring  had  smiled  at  the  grim  old  fellow  only  the 
day  before.  She  would  flutter  back  again  anon  to 
dry  the  longshore  wastes  and  warm  to  life  the  scant 
herbage  that  tries  its  best  to  clothe  the  Cape  Cod 
barrens. 

But  now  the  wind  blew  and  the  sleet  charged 
against  the  staff  of  the  lighthouse,  masking  thickly 
the  glass  that  defended  the  huge  Argand  lamp.  Its 
steady  ray  filtered  through  this  curtain  with  diffi 
culty. 

Tobias  Bassett  pulled  on  his  oilskins  and 
buckled  down  the  sou'wester  over  his  ears  prepara 
tory  to  venturing  upon  the  high  gallery  to  scrape 
the  clinging  snow  from  the  glass. 

"You  have  a  care  what  you're  doing  up  there, 
slipping  around  outside  the  light,"  advised  his  sis- 


2  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

ter  Hephzibah,  who  "should  have  been  named 
"Martha,"  being  cumbered  by  so  many  cares.  "You 
ain't  so  young  as  you  used  to  be,  Tobias/' 

"And  you  don't  have  to  throw  it  up  to  me.  I 
know  my  age  well  enough  without  looking  into  the 
family  Bible,  Heppy,"  chuckled  the  lightkeeper. 
"I'm  sure  you  ain't  changed  it.  I  ain't  cal'latin' 
to  be  like  old  Miz'  Toomey  that  when  she  went  to 
vote  for  the  first  time  told  the  poll  clerk  she  was 
thirty-six  years  old  but  had  lived  in  this  district 
fifty-four  years.  I  ain't  goin'  to  let  go  all  holts  yet. 
Leastways,  not  while  I'm  climbing  about  that  gal 
lery!" 

"You'd  ought  to  have  an  assistant,  Tobias1," 
sighed  his  sister,  who  was  preparing  supper,  al 
ways  served  at  an  early  hour  in  winter  on  the  Cape. 
"A  young  fellow  to  do  the  hard  work.  The  Gov 
ernment  ought  to  give  you  one." 

"They  think  one  man  to  a  stationary  lamp  like  this 
is  enough.  But  I  can  have  a  helper  if  I  want  one," 
her  brother  announced. 

"Then,  why  don't  ye?" 

"  'Cause  I'd  have  to  pay  his  wages  out  o'  my  own 
pay  check,  and  feed  him  in  the  bargain,"  chuckled 
the  lightkeeper.  "I  figger  we  can't  afford  that." 

"Oh,  dear!"  croaked  the  lachrymose  Heppy,  "if 
Uncle  Jethro  Potts  would  only  leave  us  some  of  his 
money  when  he  dies.  The  good  Lord  knows  we 
need  it  as  much  as  ary  rel'tive  he's  got." 


A  Cry  in  the  Night  3 

"Wai,"  commented  Tobias,  picking  up  his  lighted 
lantern,  "Jethro  Potts  has  got  to  slip  his  cable  pretty 
soon  to  do  us  much*  good,  Heppy.  We're  getting 
kind  o'  along  in  years  to  enjoy  wealth." 

"Speak  for  yourself,  Tobias  Bassett!"  said  his 
sister,  more  energetically.  "I  ain't  too  old  to  know 
what  to  do  with  money — if  I  had  it." 

"Ho,  ho!"  ejaculated  her  brother.  "Slipper's  on 
t'other  foot,  ain't  it?  I  wonder  what  age  you  give 
the  poll  clerk?"  and  he  went  out  of  the  kitchen 
chuckling. 

He  mounted  the  spiral  stairway  leading  up 
through  the  lighthouse.  After  passing  the  level  of 
the  second  story,  where  were  the  family  bedrooms, 
at  intervals  there  were  narrow  windows — mere  slits 
in  the  masonry.  These  were  blocked  with  glass  and 
only  on  the  leeward  side  could  Tobias  see  through 
them. 

"Winter's  dying  hard,"  was  his  comment,  climb 
ing  steadily  to  the  lamp  room.  "This  squall  come 
as  sudden  and  as  savage  as  ary  storm  we've  had  this 
winter.  And  the  sleet  sticks  to  the  glass  like  all 
kildee!" 

He  stepped  into  the  lamp  room,  closing  the  door 
at  the  top  of  the  stairway.  It  was  warm  in  here, 
with  a  strong  and  sickish  smell  of  burning  oil.  He 
shaded  his  eyes  with  the  sharp  of  his  hand  to  look 
into  the  lamp,  the  wick  of  which  he  had  ignited 
half  an  hour  before. 


4  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

It  was  burning  evenly  and  with  a  white  clear 
light.  But  warm  as  the  lamp  room  was  and  strong 
as  was  the  reflection  of  the  light  upon  the  outer 
panes,  the  sleet  had  frozen  to  the  glass,  making  a 
lacework  curtain  which  the  warning  ray  of  the 
lamp  could  pierce  only  with  difficulty. 

Tobias  took  a  steel  scraper  and  an  old  broom, 
opened  a  door  at  the  back,  and  went  out  upon  the 
leeward  gallery  of  the  light.  The  snow  wraiths 
swept  past  the  staff  on  either  hand,  whipping  away 
over  the  sand  dunes  and  disappearing  in  the  pall  of 
darkness  that  hovered  over  the  land. 
:  When  he  ventured  around  to  the  front  gallery  he 
found  a  pallid  radiance  on  the  sea  superinduced  by 
the  muffled  ray  of  the  lamp.  The  snow,  driven  by 
the  gale,  plastered  the  light  tower  on  this  side  from 
its  cap  ten  feet  above  the  lamp  to  that  point  twenty 
feet  above  its  base  to  which  the  spray  from  the 
wavecaps  was  thrown.  There  was  a  drift  of  snow, 
too,  on  the  railed  balcony,  through  which  the  light- 
keeper  waded. 

"Whew !"  he  gasped,  turned  his  back  to  the  blast, 
and  began  using  the  scraper  vigorously.  "I  can  see 
I've  got  an  all  night's  job  at  this  off  an'  on  if  this 
sleet  holds  to  it.  Ain't  going  to  be  heat  enough 
from  that  old  lamp  to  melt  the  ice  as  fast  as  it 
makes." 

He  muttered  this  into  the  throat-latch  of  his  storm 
coat  while  using  the  scraper.  The  frozen  sleet  rat- 


A  Cry  in  the  Night  $ 

tied  down  in  long  ribbons.  He  dropped  the  scraper 
finally  and  seized  his  broom.  It  was  then  that  he 
first  heard  that  cry  which  was  the  tocsin  of  the  un 
expected  series  of  events  which  marched  into  Tobias 
Bassett's  life  out  of  this  late  winter  storm. 

He  dropped  the  broom  and  strained  his  ears  for 
a  repetition  of  the  cry.  Was  it  the  voice  of  some 
lost  seafowl  swept  landward  on  the  breast  of  the 
storm?  A  gale  out  of  the  northeast  brought  many 
such  to  be  dashed  lifeless  at  the  foot  of  the  lamp 
tower. 

There  was  a  human  quality  to  this  sound  he  had 
heard  that  startled  Tobias.  If  from  the  sea,  then 
the  craft  on  which  the  owner  of  the  voice  was  borne, 
was  doomed. 

There  had  not  been  a  wreck  on  the  Twin  Rocks 
within  the  present  lightkeeper's  experience.  He 
shuddered  to  think  of  the  horror  of  such  a  catas 
trophe. 

A  vessel  driven  upon  the  grim  jaws  of  the  reef 
that  here  were  out-thrust  from  the  sands,  would  be 
wracked  to  mere  culch  within  the  hour.  The  life 
savers  from  Lower  Trillion  could  never  put  off  a 
boat  or  shoot  a  line  into  the  teeth  of  such  a  gale 
as  this. 

Tobias  stooped  for  the  broom  again.  Then  he 
heard  the  cry  repeated.  If  it  came  on  the  wings  of 
the  wind 

He  scrambled  around  to  the  leeward  side  of  the 


6  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

tower.  Here  the  savage  paean  of  the  storm  was 
muffled.  The  drumming  of  the  waves  on  the  rocks, 
the  eerie  shriek  of  the  wind,  the  clash  of  the  snow 
and  sleet  as  they  swept  by,  left  the  lightkeeper  in  a 
sort  of  unquiet  eddy. 

Against  the  gale  came  a  repetition  of  the  cry — 
a  faint  "Ahoy!" 

Tobias  struggled  with  the  latch  of  the  lamp  room 
door,  and  finally  got  inside  the  tower.  He  hurried 
to  the  stairway  and  descended  to  the  warm  and 
odorous  kitchen  where  Heppy  was  heaping  the 
brown  and  flaky  fishcakes  upon  the  platter  on  the 
stove-shelf. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you  to-night,  Tobias 
Bassett?"  she  demanded.  "You're  as  uneasy  as  a 
hen  on  a  hot  brick.  Where  are  you  going  now  ?"  as 
he  started  for  the  outer  door. 

"There's  somebody  out  in  this  storm,"  he  told  her. 
"I  heard  'em  shouting." 

"For  love's  sake !    In  a  boat  ?" 

"No.  From  the  land  side.  Somebody  on  the 
road." 

Tobias  banged  the  door  behind  him.  In  clear 
weather  there  was  not  much  to  be  seen  from  the 
entrance  of  the  lighthouse  in  this  landward  direc 
tion,  save  sand.  Now  about  all  Tobias  could  see 
was  snow. 

"Ahoy!    Aho-o-oy  the  light!" 

The  cry  was  shattered  against  the  singing  gale. 


A  Cry  in  the  Night  7 

But  the  lightkeeper  made  out  the  direction  from 
which  it  came  and  started  down  the  road  toward 
Lower  Trillion.  In  the  other  direction  were  the 
summer  residences  of  certain  wealthy  citizens  on  the 
Clay  Head.  While  beyond  lay  Clinkerport  at  the 
head  of  the  bay,  the  entrance  to  which  the  light 
house  guarded. 

Tobias  announced  his  coming  by  a  hearty  hail. 
He  saw  a  muffled  glow  in  the  snow  pall  ahead.  Then 
the  outlines  of  a  low-hung  motor  car  that  was  quite 
evidently  stalled  in  a  drift. 

"Hey!"  he  demanded.  "What  you  doing  in  that 
contraption  out  in  this  storm?  Ain't  you  got  no 
sense?" 

"Now  don't  you  begin!"  rejoined  a  complaining 
voice,  and  a  rather  stalky  figure  appeared  in  the 
half-shrouded  radiance  of  the  headlights.  "I've 
been  told  already  what  I  am  and  where  I  get  off.  It 
isn't  my  fault  that  blame  thing  got  stalled." 

"It  is  your  fault  that  we  came  this  way  from 
Harbor  Bar,"  interposed  a  very  sweet  but  at  present 
very  sharp  voice.  ("Jest  like  cranberry  sarse,"  To 
bias  secretly  commented.)  "We  should  not  have 
taken  the  shore  road." 

"You  didn't  say  so  when  we  started,"  declared1 
the  tall  young  man,  indignantly. 

"I  was  not  driving  the  car.  You  insisted  on 
doing  that,"  chimed  the  tart  voice  instantly. 


8  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"One  would  think  you  expected  me  to  be  omni 
scient." 

"Well,  you  appear  to  be  omnipresent — you  are  al 
ways  in  the  way,-"  and  a  much  shorter  figure,  muf 
fled  in  furs,  and  quite  evidently  that  of  a  young 
woman,  appeared  beside  the  taller  individual  from 
the  stalled  car. 

"And  I  cal'late,  Heppy,"  Tobias  explained,  re 
lating  the  event  later  to  his  sister,  "that  them  two 
socdologers  of  words  would  have  brought  on  a  fist 
fight  if  I  hadn't  stepped  into  the  breach,  so  to  say, 
and  the  smaller  of  them  castaways  hadn't  been  a 
gal !  Some  day  when  I  get  time  I'm  going  to  look  up 
'omniscient'  and  'omnipresent'  in  the  dictionary. 
They  sound  like  mighty  mean  words." 

It  was  the  lightkeeper's  interference  that  saved 
further  and  more  bitter  words  between  the  two 
stranded  voyagers.  Tobias  got  another  look  at  the 
taller  figure's  face,  and  in  spite  of  the  pulled-down 
peak  of  his  cap  and  the  goggles  he  wore,  recog 
nized  it. 

"If  'tain't  Ralph  Endicott!"  exclaimed  the  light- 
keeper.  "And  who  is  that  with  you?  Not  Miss 
Lorna?" 

"Oh,  Mr.  Bassett!"  cried  the  young  woman, 
stumbling  toward  him.  "Take  me  to  the  light.  I 
shall  be  so  glad  of  its  shelter.  Is  Miss  Hephzibah 
at  home?" 

"She  was  when  I  left,"  said  Tobias.    "An'  I  cal'- 


A  Cry  in  the  Night  9 

late  she  won't  go  gaddin'  endurin'  this  gale.  It 
don't  show  right  good  sense  for  anybody  to  be  out 
such  a  night." 

"That's  what  I  tell  him,"  the  girl  cried.  "Any 
body  with  sense •" 

"You  wanted  to  come  over  here  and  see  what 
shape  the  house  was  in,  Lorna  Nicholet!"  stormed 
Ralph  Endicott."  "I  was  only  doing  you  a  favor." 

"Do  you  call  this  a  favor?"  demanded  the  girl. 

"Anybody  would  think  I  brought  this  storm  on 
purposely." 

"You  certainly  tried  to  get  through  a  road  that 
you  should  have  known  would  be  drifted  when  it 
did  begin  to  snow.  Bah !  Give  me  your  arm,  Mr. 
Bassett.  He's  the  most  useless "  v 

"Ain't  no  good  you  staying  out  here,  Ralphie," 
advised  the!  old  lightkeeper.  "Nobody  will  run  off 
with  that  little  buzz-cart  of  yourn.  Heppy's  got 
fish  balls  for  supper — a  whole  raft  of  'em." 

The  young  man  followed  through  the  snow, 
grumbling.  The  prospect  of  a  good  meal,  as  Tobias 
later  acknowledged,  did  not  seem  to  influence  a 
college  man  as  it  once  might  the  long-legged  harum- 
scarum  boy  who  had  raced  these  beaches  for  so 
many  summers. 

Endicott  and  Lorna  Nicholet  were  of  the  sand 
piper  ,  class.  So  Tobias  usually  referred  to  the 
summer  visitors  who  fluttered  about  the  sands  for 
several  months  of  each  year.  These  young  folks 


io  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

had  been  coming  to  Clay  Head  each  season  since 
they  were  in  rompers.  Lorna's  aunt,  Miss  Ida 
Nicholet  of  Harbor  Bar,  and  head  of  the  family, 
owned  the  rambling1  old  house  overlooking  the 
mouth  of  the  bay.  The  Endicotts — "the  Endicotts 
of  Amperly,"  to  distinguish  them  from  numerous 
other  groups  of  the  same  name  whose  habitat  dot 
the  sea-coast  of  Massachusetts — usually  occupied 
one  of  the  bungalows  on  Clay  Head  during  the 
summer. 

"See  what  the  gale  blowed  in,  Heppy,"  was  the 
lightkeeper's  announcement  as  he  banged  open  the 
outer  door. 

His  sister  turned,  frying-fork  in  hand,  and  peered 
through  her  spectacles  at  the  snow-covered  figures 
of  the  visitors.  She  was  a  comfortably  built  per 
son,  was  Hephzibah  Bassett,  with  rosy-brown,  un- 
wrinkled  face,  despite  her  unacknowledged  age  of 
fifty-odd.  Her  iron-gray  hair  was  parted  in  the 
center  and  crinkled  over  her  ears  in  tiny  plaits,  being 
caught  in  a  small  "bob"  low  on  her  plump  neck  be 
hind.  She  never  went  to  bed  at  night  without  braid 
ing  her  hair  on  the  side  in  several  "pigtails"  (to  use 
her  brother's  unsavory  expression)  to  be  combed 
out  into  this  wavy  effect  when  she  changed  her 
house  gown  in  the  afternoon.  It  was  a  style  of 
hair-dressing  which,  if  old-fashioned,  became  her 
well. 

There  was  something  very  wholesome  and  kindly 


A  Cry  in  the  Night  11 

appearing  about  Hephzibah  Bassett.  She  might 
not  possess  the  shrewdness  of  her  brother,  the  light- 
keeper,  and  she  did  nag  a  good  bit.  Yet  spinster- 
hood  had  not  withered  her  smile  nor  squeezed  dry 
her  fount  of  human  kindness. 

"For  love's  sake!"  she  cried  now,  when  she  had 
identified  the  petite  figure  shaking  its  furs  free  of 
the  sticky  snow.  "If  'tain't  Lorny  Nicholet!  Do 
come  and  give  me  a  kiss,  Lorny.  I  can't  leave  these 
fishballs  or  they'd  scorch." 

The  girl  wriggled  out  of  her  coat  and  let  it 
drop  to  the  braided  mat.  She  was  just  such  a  look 
ing  girl  as  one  might  expect  from  her  name.  There 
was  French  blood  in  the  Nicholets.  Lorna  was  dis 
tinctly  of  the  brunette  type,  small  limbed,  as  lithe  as 
a  feline.  Perhaps  that  was  why  she  could  scratch ! ' 
There  were  little  short  curls  framing  her  broad,  low 
forehead.  The  gloss  of  a  crow's  wing  accentuated 
the  blackness  of  her  hair. 

Her  face  glowed  now  from  facing  the  storm — or 
was  it  from  indignation?  Her  eyes  sparkled  so  lu 
minously  that  one  could  not  be  sure  whether  they 
were  black  or  brown.  She  was  one  of  those  girls 
who  seem  all  alive,  all  of  the  time.  She  had  the 
alert  appearance  of  a  wild  bird  on  the  twig — ready 
for  instant  flight. 

"Oh,  how  good  it  smells  in  here,  Miss  Heppy!" 
She  fluttered  across  the  big  kitchen  and  imprinted 
upon  the  woman's  cheek  a  warm  kiss.  She  hugged, 


12  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

too,  the  ample  arm  that  Heppy  did  not  use  in  turn 
ing  the  fishballs  in  the  deep  frying  kettle. 

"You  certain  sure  give  us  a  surprise,  Lorny," 
said  the  lightkeeper's  sister. 

"Of  course  I  intended  giving  you  a  call  as  we 
passed,"  the  girl  said.  "But  I  started  for  the  special 
purpose  of  looking  over  the  house  for  Aunt  Ida  and 
listing  such  new  things  as  we  shall  need  for  the 
summer.  This  doesn't  look  much  like  summer,  does 
it?" 

"Oh,  it's  the  last  quintal  of  winter,  I  cal'late," 
said  the  woman,  spearing  a  brown  cake.  "Lucky  I 
made  a  mess  of  these.  I  didn't  really  expect  any 
visitors  to-night." 

"That's  just  it,  Miss  Heppy!  How  will  I  ever 
get  back  to  Harbor  Bar  to-night  ?" 

"You  won't.  Why  should  you?  Your  aunt  will 
know  you  are  safe — with  him." 

Miss  Heppy  glanced  slyly  around  at  Ralph  Endi- 
cott,  whom  she  had  but  briefly  greeted.  The  girl, 
seeing  her  glance,  pouted. 

"I  wish  you  wouldn't!"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 
"It  fairly  gets  on  my  nerves.  Everybody  does  it." 

"Does  what,  child?"  asked  Miss  Heppy,  with  sur 
prise. 

"Takes  it  for  granted  that  Ralph  Endicott  and  I 
are  engaged." 

"Wai — you  be  sort  o*  young,  I  suppose " 


A  Cry  in  the  Night  13 

"If  I  was  forty  I  wouldn't  be  engaged  to  him!" 
flared  up  Lorna. 

"For  love's  sake !"  exclaimed  the  woman.  "Don't 
say  that.  Though  at  forty  you  ought  to've  been 
married  to  him  a  good  many  years,"  and  she  broke 
into  an  unctuous  chuckle  that  shook  her  ample  bosom 
like  jelly. 

"I'll  never  marry  him !"  cried  the  girl,  but  under 
her  breath. 

"Now,  now !"  urged  Miss  Heppy.  "You  always 
be  quarreling  with  Ralphie.  But  you  know  they're 
jest  love  spats.  He's  a  good  fellow " 

"You  don't  know  what  it  means,  Miss  Heppy,  to 
a  girl  to  have  a  man  just  forced  on  her.  Everybody 
trying  to  make  her  take  him,  willy-nilly." 

"Um-m.  None  warn't  never  forced  on  me,"  ad 
mitted  the  woman,  dividing  her  attention  between 
the  frying  fishballs  and  Lorna's  affair  of  the  heart. 
"But  I  reckon,  Lorna,  they  couldn't  force  a  better 
boy  on  you." 

"That  is  one  of  the  worst  phases  of  it,"  declared 
the  girl  seriously.  "There  is  not  one  single,  solitary 
thing  to  be  said  against  Ralph's  character.  Unless 
— well,  there  was  a  girl  when  he  went  to  college. 
At  least,  so  they  say.  But  I  suppose  all  boys  must 
have  their  foolish  puppy-love  affairs,"  concluded 
Lorna,  with  an  owllike  appearance  of  wisdom  that 
revealed  the  quite  unsophisticated  girl  who  believes 
she  "knows  it  all." 


14  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Miss  Heppy  merely  stared.  In  her  secluded  life 
love  was  love.  There  were  no  gradations  known 
either  as  "puppy-love"  or  by  other  terms  of  rating. 

"It  isn't  that  Ralph  isn't  good  enough,  Miss 
Heppy,"  whispered  the  girl.  "But  he's  been  thrown 
at  me  all  my  life  long!"  She  was  not  yet  twenty- 
one.  "I  just  won't  marry  him." 

She  stamped  her  foot  on  the  hearth.  Tobias,  who 
had  been  leisurely  taking  off  his  storm  coat  and  un 
buckling  the  strap  of  his  sou'wester  as  he  talked 
cheerfully  to  the  rather  glum  looking  Ralph,  now 
turned  to  the  women. 

"I  feel  some  like  stomping  in  my  stall,  too,"  was 
his  comment  upon  Lorna's  emphatic  punctuation  of 
her  whispered  defiance.  "Bear  a  hand  with  the 
supper,  Heppy.  I've  got  to  go  up  to  the  gallery 
again  and  clear  the  snow  off  the  lamp.  It  surely 
does  stick  to-night.  I  was  just  getting  the  glass 
clear  when  I  heard  you  young  folks  shouting  for 
rescue. 

"Come,  Miss  Lorna!  Come,  Ralph!  Pull  up 
cheers  for  yourselves.  Supper's  ready,  I  cal'late, 
ain't  it,  Heppy?" 


CHAPTER  II 

CONFIDENCES 

THE  blast  struck  the  light  tower  so  heavily  that 
Ralph  Endicott  felt  the  whole  structure  vibrate  as 
he  followed  Tobias  up  the  spiral  stairway  after  sup 
per.  In  spite  of  the  lightkeeper's  jollity  and  Miss 
Heppy's  kindness,  the  supper  had  seemed  to  hearten 
but  little  the  spirits  of  the  young  man. 

He  had  offered  to  attend  Tobias  in  his  duty  at 
the  top  of  the  tower  more  for  the  purpose  of  getting 
away  from  the  women  than  for  any  other  reason. 
He  seized  the  broom  and  followed  Tobias  with  the 
scraper  out  upon  the  open  gallery.  If  the  storm 
had  seemed  furious  before  supper,  it  had  risen  to  a 
top  gale  now.  The  two  men  could  scarcely  face  it 
on  the  windward  side. 

The  gale  came  in  blasts  that  slapped  their  burden 
of  snow  against  the  lighthouse  with  great  force. 
Ralph  was  barely  able  to  keep  his  feet.  But  the 
sturdy  lightkeeper  went  about  the  task  with  a  cer 
tain  phlegm. 

They  managed  to  free  the  glass  of  its  curtain  of 
snow.  Then  Ralph  staggered  around  to  the  shel 
tered  gallery,  on  the  heels  of  Tobias.  The  younger 

15 


16  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

man's  was  a  gloomy  face  when  they  once  more  en 
tered  the  lamp  room. 

"Cheer  up,"  said  Tobias,  getting  his  breath  and 
eyeing  Ralph  aslant.  "They  tell  me  the  worst  is 
yet  to  come.  Though  I  tell  you  fair,  Ralphie,  if  the 
last  end  o'  my  life  is  anywhere  as  hard  as  what 
happened  me  when  I  shipped  cabin  boy  on  the  old 
Sarah  Drinkwater,  the  good  Lord  help  me  to  bear 
it! 

"Why,  Ralphie,  from  the  time  she  was  warped 
out  o'  the  dock  at  Provincetown  till  we  unloaded 
them  box  shocks  at  Santiago  I  didn't  git  to  git  my 
clothes  off — no,  sir! 

"We  did  have  bad  weather,  I  cal'late,  though  I 
never  got  out  on  deck  often  enough  the  whole  en- 
durin'  v'y'ge  to  observe  the  sea  and  sky.  I  was 
washing  dishes,  making  up  berths,  cleaning  pots  and 
pans,  peeling  'taters  and  turmits,  and  seeding  raisins 
for  the  skipper's  plum  duff  most  o'  the  time. 

"Seeding  raisins!  Oh,  sugar,  I  got  to  thinkin' 
that  if  that  was  all  going  to  sea  meant,  I  might  bet 
ter  have  got  a  job  in  a  scullery  and  kept  on  an  even 
footing.  And  I  purty  nigh  got  my  lips  in  such  a 
pucker  whistling  while  I  seeded  them  raisins  (cookie 
wouldn't  trust  me  otherwise)  that  I  never  did  get 
'em  straight  since. 

"Say,  lemme  tell  you!"  proceeded  Tobias,  his 
weather-stained  face  beaming  in  the  glow  of  the 
great  Argand  light.  "Cap'n  Drinkwater  demanded 


Confidences  17 

his  plum  duff  for  supper  ev'ry  endurin'  day  of  the 
v'y'ge,  no  matter  what  the  weather  was.  He  had 
an  old  black  cook,  Sam  Snowball,  that  had  got  so's 
he  could  make  that  pudding  to  the  queen's  taste. 

"Lemme  tell  you!  The  skipper  was  that  stingy 
that  he  fed  the  crew  rusty  pork  and  weevilly  beans, 
and  a  grade  of  salt  horse  that  would  make  a  crew 
of  Skowegians  mutiny.  But  the  Sarah  Drinkwater 
never  made  long  enough  v'y'ges  for  her  crew  to  mu 
tiny — no,  sir! 

"But  that  plum  duff — oh,  sugar!  Bern'  the  boy, 
I  never  got  more'n  the  lickin's  of  the  dish.  If  I  got 
enough  'taters  and  salt  horse  to  fill  my  belly  so's  to 
keep  my  pants  up,  I  was  lucky.  The  skipper  and 
the  mate  divided  the  duff  between  'em. 

"Ahem!"  he  added  critically,  "you  don't  look  as 
though  there  was  any  plums  at  all  in  your  duff, 
Ralph." 

"There  isn't,"  returned  the  young  man  shortly. 

"Oh,  sugar!"  ejaculated  the  lightkeeper,  drawing 
forth  a  short  clay  pipe  and  a  sack  of  cut  tobacco. 
"I  cal'late  that  you  folks  with  money  have  more  real 
troubles  than  what  we  poor  folks  do." 

"Huh!    Money!"  scoffed  Endicott. 

"Yep.  It's  mighty  poor  bait  for  fish,  I  cal'late. 
You  can't  even  chum  with  it." 

"Money  isn't  everything,"  said  the  young  man 
shrugging  his  shoulders. 

"True.    True  as  preaching,"  cried  Tobias.     "But 


1 8  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

'twill  buy  most  everything  you're  likely  to  need  in 
this  world.  And  you've  got  enough,  Ralph,  to  keep 
you  from  getting  gray-headed  before  your  time  wor 
rying  about  where  your  three  meals  a  day  are  com 
ing  from.  I  don't  see  what  can  be  wrong  with  you. 
And  that  purty  gal " 

"Now  stop,  Tobias  Bassett!"  exclaimed  Endi- 
cott.  "Don't  keep  reminding  me  of  Lorna.  I  get 
enough  of  that  at  home." 

"Wai!"  gasped  the  lightkeeper.  "For  you  to 
speak  so  of  Lorna!  Why,  that's  the  main-skys'l- 
pole  of  the  whole  suit  of  spars — only  needs  the 
main-truck  to  cap  it.  What  do  you  mean?" 

"Now,  mind  you,"  Endicott  said  earnestly.  "I 
haven't  a  thing  to  say  against  Lorna.  She's  a  nice 
girl — for  some  other  fellow.,  But  I  declare  to  you, 
Tobias,  /  won't  marry  her" 

"Oh,  sugar!" 

"Just  because  my  Uncle  Henry  and  her  Aunt  Ida 
have  planned  for  us  to  do  so  since  we  were  little 
tads  running  about  the  beaches  here,  is  no  reason 
why  I  should  be  tied  up  to  Lorna  forever  and  ever, 
Amen!" 

"That's  a  mighty  hard  sayin' " 

"You  think,  like  everybody  else,  that  Lorna  and 
I  were  made  for  each  other.  We  weren't!  We'd 
fight  all  the  time.  We  always  do  fight.  Look  at 
to-night.  The  first  little  thing  that  goes  wrong  she 


Confidences  19 

jumps  at  me.  I'm  sick  of  playing  dog  and  rolling 
over  every  time  Lorna  orders  me  to. 

"And  look  at  the  mess  we're  in  to-night!" 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  boy?"  demanded 
the  lighthouse  keeper.  "You're  under  shelter. 
There's  grub  enough  in  the  light  to  stave  off  star 
vation  for  a  spell.  Nothing  can't  happen  to  your 
buzz-cart  worse  than  its  being  drifted  under  with 
snow." 

"Oh,  you  don't  understand,  Tobias !"  said  the  ex 
asperated  Ralph.  "Our  going  off  in  my  car  the 
way  we  did,  and  not  getting  back  to-night — why! 
it'll  be  all  over  Harbor  Bar  that  we've  eloped." 

"I  see,"  said  the  lightkeeper  between  puffs  of  his 
short  pipe.  Then:  "You  don't  cal'late  to  marry 
Lorna?" 

"I  won't  have  her  thrown  at  me." 

"I  never  had  no  gal  throwed  at  me,"  Tobias  re 
flected.  "I  dunno  how  'twould  feel.  But  I  will  say 
that  if  I  had  to  catch  such  a  throw  as  Lorna  Nicho- 
let,  I  surely  wouldn't  make  a  muff  of  it !" 

"That's  all  right,"  observed  Endicott.  "I'm  nof 
saying  she  isn't  a  nice  enough  girl.  But  I  don't 
believe  she  really  wants  me  any  more  than  I  want 
her.  In  fact,  I  know  there  was  another  fellow  last 
year  that  she  was  interested  in.  A  chap  named 
Conny  Degger.  He  was  in  my  class  at  college. 
Kind  of  a  sport,  but  I  guess  he's  all  right,  at  that. 
But  Lorna's  Aunt  Ida  broke  it  up.  Wouldn't  let 


2O  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Conny  shine  around  Lorna  any  more  when  she 
learned  about  it. 

"They've  got  us  both  thrown  and  tied,  TobiasJ 
That's  the  way  Uncle  Henry,  and  Aunt  Ida,  and  all 
the  rest  of  my  family  and  Lorna's  people  have  got 
us  fixed.  They  act  as  though  we'd  just  got  to  marry 
each  other.  And  after  this  mischance — breaking 
down  here  in  the  snow — they'll  all  say  we're  dis 
graced  forever  if  we  don't  announce  the  engage 
ment." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  said  the  lightkeeper  again,  puffing 
away  placidly. 

In  the  kitchen  Lorna  Nicholet  was  making  a  con 
fidante  of  Miss  Heppy  quite  as  Ralph  had  trusted 
Tobias.  Nor  was  the  girl  less  determined  to  thwart 
the  intention  of  her  family  in  this  matrimonial  af 
fair,  than  was  Ralph  in  his  attitude  toward  his 
relatives. 

"For  love's  sake!"  murmured  the  lightkeeper's 
sister,  realizing  at  last  how  much  in  earnest  the  girl 
was,  "Miss  Ida'll  near  about  have  a  conniption. 
She's  set  her  heart  on  you  an'  Ralph  marrying,  for 
years." 

"And  his  Uncle  Henry  is  just  as  foolish,"  sighed 
Lorna,  wiping  her  eyes.  "Why  will  old  people 
never  have  sense  enough  to  let  young  people's  af 
fairs  alone?" 

"Well,  now,  as  you  might  say,"  Miss  Heppy  ob 
served,  "Miss  Ida  and  Henry  Endicott  ain't  re'lly 


Confidences  21 

old.  Forty-odd  ain't  what  ye  might  call  aged — not 
in  a  way  of  speaking.  But  I  cal'late  they  are  some 
sot  in  their  ways." 

"  'Some  sot'  is  right,  Miss  Heppy,"  repeated 
Lorna,  suddenly  giggling  and  her  vivid  face  a-smile 
once  more.  "In  her  own  case  Aunt  Ida  is  a  misog- 
amist ;  yet  she  urges  marriage  on  me.  And  Ralph's 
Uncle  Henry  is  a  misogynist  in  any  case.  Why  he 
is  so  anxious  to  force  Ralph  into  the  wedded  state 
I  do  not  see." 

"Seems  to  me  them  air  purty  hard  names  to  call 
your  aunt  and  Henry  Endicott,"  murmured  Miss 
Heppy. 

"Oh!"  Lorna  laughed  again.  "They  just  mean 
that  Aunt  Ida  hates  marriage  and  Uncle  Henry 
hates  women." 

Miss  Heppy  waggled  a  doubtful  head. 

"They  wasn't  like  that  when  I  first  remember 
them,  Lorny,"  she  said.  "Miss  Ida  Nicholet  is  a 
fine  looking  woman  now.  She  was  a  pretty  sight 
for  anybody's  eyes  when  she  was  your  age,  or  there 
about." 

"I  know  she  was  quite  a  belle  when  she  was 
young,"  Lorna  agreed,  rather  carelessly. 

"And  Henry  Endicott  wasn't  any— what  did  you 
call  him  jes.t  now  ?" 

"A  misogynist — a  hater  of  women." 

"He  didn't  hate  'em  none  when  he  come  here  that 
first  summer,"  said  Miss  Heppy,  with  a  reflective 


22  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

smile.  "He  was  a  young  professor  at  some  college 
then.  I  expect  he  didn't  know  as  much  about  in 
venting  things  then  as  what  he  does  now.  But  he 
knowed  more  how  to  please  women.  He  pleased 
your  Aunt  Ida  right  well,  I  cal'late." 

"Never!  You  don't  mean  it,  Miss  Heppy!"  ex 
claimed  Lorna,  sensing  a  romance. 

"Yes,  I  thought  then  Miss  Ida  and  Henry  Endi- 
cott  would  make  a  match  of  it.  But  somehow — 
well,  such  things  don't  always  go  the  way  you  ex 
pect  them  to.  Both  your  aunt  and  Professor  Endi- 
cott  were  high-strung — same's  you  and  Ralph  be, 
Lorny." 

"Why,"  cried  the  girl  smiling  again,  "I'd  never 
fight  with  Ralph  at  all  if  they  didn't  try  to  make  us 
marry.  I  wonder  if  it  is  so,  that  Aunt  Ida  and 
Ralph's  uncle  were  once  fond  of  each  other!  If 
they  could  not  make  a  match  of  it,  why  are  they  so 
determined  to  force  Ralph  and  me  into  a  marriage?" 

"Mebbe  because  they  see  their  mistake,"  Miss 
Heppy  said  judiciously.  "I  don't  believe  your  aunt 
and  Henry  Endicott  have  been  any  too  happy  en- 
durin'  these  past  twenty-odd  years." 

"Tell  me!"  urged  the  girl,  her  cheeks  aglow  and 
her  eyes  dancing.  "Is  remaining  single  all  your  life 
such  a  great  cross,  Miss  Heppy?  Are  there  not 
some  compensations?" 

The  woman  looked  up  from  darning  the  big  blue 
wool  sock  that  could  have  fitted  none  but  her  bro- 


Confidences  23 

ther's  foot.  The  smile  with  which  she  favored  the 
girl  had  much  tenderness  as  well  as  retrospection 
in  it. 

"I  don't  believe  that  any  woman  over  thirty  is 
ever  single  from  choice,  Lorny.  She  may  never  find 
the  man  she  wants  to  marry.  Or  something  sepa 
rates  her  from  the  one  she  is  sure-'nough  fitted  to 
mate  with.  So,  she  must  make  the  best  of  it." 

"But  you,  Miss  Heppy?"  asked  Lorna,  boldly. 
"Why  didn't  you  ever  marry?" 

"Why — I  was  cal'lating  on  doing  so,  when  I  was 
a  gal,"  said  the  woman  gently.  "Listen!" 

The  girl,  startled,  looked  all  about  the  room  and 
then  back  into  Miss  Heppy 's  softly  smiling  face. 

"Do  you  hear  it,  Lorny  ?  The  sea  a-roaring  over 
the  reef  and  the  wind  wailing  about  the  light? 
That's  my  answer  to  your  question.  I  seen  so  many 
women  in  my  young  days  left  lone  and  lorn  be 
cause  of  that  sea.  Ah,  my  deary,  'tain't  the  men 
that  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships  that  suffer  most. 
'Tis  their  wives  and  mothers,  and  the  little  children 
they  leave  behind. 

"When  I  was  a  young  gal  I  never  had  a  chance  to 
meet  ary  men  but  them  that  aimed  their  bread  on 
the  deep  waters.  My  father  was  drowned  off  Hat- 
teras,  two  brothers  older  than  Tobias  were  of  the 
crew  of  the  windjammer,  Seahawk.  She  never  got 
around  the  Horn  on  her  last  v'y'ge.  In  seventeen 


24  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

homes  about  Clinkerport  and  Twin  Rocks,  the 
women  mourned  their  dead  on  the  Seahawk. 

"No,  no.  I  didn't  stay  single  from  choice.  But 
I  shut  my  ears  and  eyes  to  ary  man  that  heard  the 
call  of  the  sea.  And  I  never  met  no  other,  Lorny." 

The  uproar  of  the  storm  was  an  accompaniment 
to  Miss  Heppy's  story.  The  solemnity  of  it  quenched 
any  further  expression  of  what  Lorna  Nicholet  con 
sidered  her  troubles.  Within  the  kitchen  there  was 
silence  for  a  space. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  APEX  OF  THE  STORM 

BEDTIME  came,  and  Miss  Heppy  led  Lorna,  with 
the  little  whale  oil  hand  lamp,  up  one  flight  of  the 
spiral  stairway  and  ushered  her  into  the  best  bed 
room.  It  was  the  whitewashed  cell  facing  the 
ocean. 

The  waves  boomed  with  sullen  roar  upon  the 
rocks,  breaking,  it  seemed,  almost  at  the  base  of  the 
lighthouse.  Spray,  as  well  as  the  sleet,  dashed 
against  the  single  unshuttered  window.  It  was 
sheeted  with  white.  But  Miss  Heppy  drew  the  cur 
tains  close. 

"You  won't  be  afraid  to  sleep  here  alone,  will 
you,  child?"  asked  the  lightkeeper's  sister.  "Tobias 
and  I  are  only  just  across  the  landing.  Though  I 
guess  Tobias  will  be  up  most  o'  the  night  watchin' 
the  lamp,  and  he'll  likely  put  your  young  man  in  his 
bed." 

"I  wish  you  wouldn't!"  sighed  Lorna.  "He's  not 
my  young  man,  whatever  else  he  may  be.  I  here 
and  now  disown  all  part  and  parcel  in  Ralph  En- 
dicott." 

"I  dunno  what  Miss  Ida  will  say,"  the  woman 
25 


26  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

observed  mournfully.  "It'll  be  a  shock  to  her.  Wai, 
try  to  sleep,  deary,  if  the  wintry  winds  do  blow. 
I  guess  'twill  clear,  come  morning.  These  late  win 
ter  storms  never  last." 

She  had  shaken  out  a  voluminous  canton-flannel 
nightgown  which  she  laid  over  the  foot  of  the  bed. 
Now  she  pricked  up  the  two  round  wicks  of  the 
lamp  with  a  pin,  and  after  kissing  the  visitor  left 
her  to  seek  repose. 

She  heard  a  heavy  step  on  the  stair  as  she  reached 
the  foot  of  it,  so  held  the  kitchen  door  open  for  her 
brother.  Tobias  had  left  Ralph  to  watch  the  lamp 
while  he  came  down  on  some  small  errand.  Find 
ing  his  sister  alone,  the  lightkeeper  lingered. 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,  Heppy,"  he  said,  slowly 
puffing  on  his  clay  pipe,  "that  it  was  lucky  we  was 
born  handsome  instead  o'  rich." 

"You  speak  for  yourself,  Tobias,"  rejoined  his 
sister,  with  good-natured  irony.  "My  beauty  never 
struck  in,  so's  to  be  chronic,  as  ye  might  say.  And 
I  could  do  right  now  with  lots  more  money  than 
we've  got." 

"You'd  only  put  it  in  the  Clinkerport  Bank — 
you  know  you  would,"  chuckled  Tobias.  "And  the 
most  useless  dollar  in  the  world — to  the  owner  I 
mean — is  a  dollar  in  the  bank." 

"You  never  did  properly  appreciate  money." 

"No,  thanks  be!  Not  according  to  your  stand 
ard  of  appreciation,  Heppy.  Money  is  only  good 


The  Apex  of  the  Storm  27 

for  what  you  spend  it  for.  A  dollar  in  the  bank  that 
aims  ye  three  cents  a  year  ain't  even  worth  thinkin' 
of — let  alone  talking  about.  You  might  just  as  well 
hide  it  under  the  hearthstone.  It  would  be  less 
worry." 

"We  ain't  got  enough  in  the  Clinkerport  Bank  to 
worry  you  none,"  scoffed  his  sister. 

"I  dunno.  Arad  Thompson,  the  president  of  the 
bank  might  run  off  with  the  funds.  Such  things  do 
happen." 

"And  he  confined  to  a  wheel  chair  for  ten  years 
now !"  ejaculated  Miss  Heppy.  "I  shall  never  worry 
over  our  little  tad  of  money — save  that  it  is  so 
little." 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  money  don't  seem 
to  do  folks  all  the  good  in  the  world  that  it  oughter. 
Look  at  these  two  young  ones,  now,  Lorna  and 
Ralph.  Their  folks  has  got  more  wealth  than 
enough.  And  yet  Ralph  croaks  as  though  he  saw 
no  chance  at  all  ahead  of  him  but  trouble." 

"I  do  allow,"  admitted  Miss  Heppy,  "that  Lorna 
thinks  as  little  of  Ralph's  money  as  she  seems  to  of 
the  boy  himself.  And  he's  a  nice  boy." 

"And  she's  just  the  nicest  gal  that  ever  stepped  in 
shoe-leather,"  rejoined  the  lightkeeper  stoutly. 

"They  don't  'predate  each  other,"  sighed  Miss 
Heppy. 

"Ain't  it  so?    I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  if  they 


28  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

was  poor — re'l  poor — they  would  fall  in  love  with 
each  other  quick  enough." 

"I  dunno " 

"I  do,"  declared  the  confident  lightkeeper.  "It's 
a  case  o'  money  being  no  good  at  all  to  them  young 
ones.  If  Ralph  had  to  dig  clams  or  clerk  it  in  a 
bank  for  a  living,  and  Lorny  didn't  have  more'n  two 
caliker  dresses  a  year  and  could  not  get  any  more — 
why !  them  two  would  fall  in  love  with  each  other 
so  hard  'twould  hurt.  That's  my  opinion,  Heppy, 
and  I  give  it  for  what  it's  worth." 

He  knocked  the  heeltap  out  of  his  pipe  on  the 
stove  hearth.  His  sister  was  not  giving  him  her 
full  attention.  She  raised  her  eyes  from  her  darn 
ing  and  listened  to  the  storm. 

The  wind  shrieked  like  a  company  of  fiends 
around  the  tall  tower.  The  sleet  and  spray  slappecl 
viciously  against  the  shutterless  windows  on  the  ex 
posed  side  of  the  structure.  The  woman  shook 
her  head. 

"It's  a  terrible  night,  Tobias.    Listen !" 

From  the  ocean  rose  the  voice  of  a  blast  seem 
ingly  worse  than  any  that  had  gone  before.  It  was 
the  apex  of  the  storm.  It  drowned  anything  fur 
ther  Tobias  might  have  said. 

The  hurricane  from  the  sea  took  the  light  tower 
in  its  arms  and  shook  it.  The  roar  of  it  made  the 
woman's  face  blanch. 

As  the  sound  poured  away  into  the  distance  the 


The  Apex  of  the  Storm  29 

two  in  the  kitchen  heard  a  crash  of  glass — then  a 
scream.  Tobias  dashed  for  the  stairway  door. 

"The  lamp !"  he  shouted. 

'That  ain't  no  lamp,  Tobias,"  declared  his  sister. 

When  he  opened  the  door  a  gale  rushed  in  and 
sucked  the  flame  out  of  the  top  of  the  lamp  chimney 
with  a  "plop!"  The  stairway  seemed  filled  with  a 
whirling  cyclone  of  wintry  air. 

Tobias  heard  the  clatter  of  Ralph  Endicott's  boots 
on  the  iron  treads  coming  down  from  above.  A 
door  was  banging  madly  on  the  second  floor.  Lorna 
screamed  again. 

"The  window  of  the  best  room's  burst  in,  To 
bias,"  shouted  Miss  Heppy.  "That  poor  child !" 

The  lightkeeper  had  seized  his  lantern,  and  now 
he  started  up  the  stairway.  But  youth  was  quicker 
than  vigorous  old  age.  Ralph  plunged  into  the 
bedchamber,  the  door  of  which  had  been  burst 
open  by  the  blast  from  the  wrecked  window. 

The  cowering  figure  of  the  girl  at  the  foot  of  the 
bed,  wrapped  in  Miss  Heppy's  voluminous  night 
gown,  was  visible  in  the  whirlwind  of  snow.  She 
sprang  toward  Ralph  with  a  cry  of  relief,  and  the 
young  man  gathered  her  into  his  arms  as  though 
she  were  a  child. 

"Oh,  Ralph!" 

"All  right,  Lorna!  You're  safe  enough.  Don't  be 
frightened,"  soothed  Endicott. 

For  a  long  moment  he  sheltered  her  thus,  bul- 


30  j  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

warking  his  own  body  between  her  and  the  blast 
from  the  window.  She  cowered  in  his  arms.  Then : 

"For  love's  sake!"  gasped  Miss  Heppy  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs. 

The  lantern  in  her  brother's  hand  broadly  illu 
mined  the  two  young  people.  Tobias  himself  was 
enormously  .amused. 

"Don't  look  as  though  you  hated  each  other  none 
to  speak  of,"  ;was  his  tactless  comment. 

"Tobias!"  shrieked  Miss  Heppy. 

Lorna  struggled  out  of  Ralph's  arms  in  a  flame 
of  rage. 

"How  dare  you,  Ralph  Endicott?"  she  cried.  "I 
thought  you  were  at  least  a  gentleman.  You  go 
right  away  from  here — now — this  minulte!  I'll 
never  speak  to  you  again !" 

"Why,  I— I " 

Ralph  was  too  startled  for  the  moment  to  be 
angry.  The  girl  ran  in  her  bare  feet  to  the  com 
fort  of  Miss  Heppy's  ample  person. 

"Take  me  somewhere!  Take  me  to  your  room, 
Miss  Heppy.  I  never  want  to  see  him  again.  How 
dared  he?" 

"Oh,  sugar!"  murmured  the  perfectly  amazed 
lightkeeper. 

But  the  fires  of  rage  began  to  glow  within  Ralph 
Endicott's  bosom  now,  blown  by  the  blast  of  Lorna's 
ingratitude.  His  face  blazed. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  demanded.     "I  did 


The  Apex  of  the  Storm  31 

not  come  here  because  I  wanted  to.  You  yelled 
loud  enough  for  help.  I — I " 

"That  will  do!"  exclaimed  Lorna,  her  head  up, 
as  regal  as  any  angry  little  queen  could  be.  "If  you 
were  a  gentleman  by  nature  you  would  have  refused 
to  stay  here  in  the  first  place,  when  you  knew  the 
light  was  my  only  shelter." 

"Well,  of  all  the " 

"You  can  go  on  to  Clinkerport.  Telephone  from 
the  hotel  to  Aunt  Ida  and  tell  her  where  I  am  and 
whose  care  I  am  in.  If  the  story  that  you  and  I 
remained  here  all  night  together  is  circulated  about 
Harbor  Bar,  I'll  never  forgive  you,  Ralph  En- 
dicott!" 

"Great  Scott!"  shouted  the  young  man,  coming 
out  into  the  hall  and  closing  the  door  of  the  bed 
room.  "You  don't  suppose  for  a  moment  /  want 
such  a  story  circulated  among  our  friends,  do  you? 
No  fear!" 

He  started  down  the  stairs,  pulling  his  cap  over 
his  ears  and  buttoning  his  automobile  coat  up  to 
his  throat. 

"For  love's  sake !"  again  gasped  the  troubled  spin 
ster,  who  still  held  the  girl  in  her  arms. 

"Hold  on!  Hold  on!"  exclaimed  Tobias. 
"  'Tain't  fit  for  to  turn  a  dog  out  into  this  storm." 

"I  don't  care!"  cried  the  hysterical  girl  wildly. 
"He  never  should  have  let  the  car  stall  in  that 
snowdrift.  He  should  have  gone  on  to  Clinkerport 


32  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

alone  instead  of  making  a  nuisance  of  himself 
around  here." 

The  lower  door  banged  as  punctuation  to  her 
speech. 

Tobias  started  to  descend  the  stair.  His  sister 
motioned  him  commandingly  toward  the  door  of  the 
best  room. 

"You  find  some  way  to  stopper  that  window, 
Tobias,"  she  said,  "and  then  go  back  to  your  lamp. 
You  can't  do  no  good  interfering  in  this." 

She  led  the  sobbing  girl  into  her  own  room  and 
closed  the  door.  The  lightkeeper  shook  his  head. 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,"  he  muttered,  "that 
women  folks  is  as  hard  to  understand  as  the  Chinee 
language.  And  they  begin  their  finicking  mighty 
airly." 

Lorna  sobbed  herself  into  quietness  in  Miss 
Heppy's  feather  bed,  cuddled  into  the  good  spin 
ster's  embrace.  The  latter  did  not  speak  one  word 
of  criticism.  But  as  her  passion  ebbed,  Lorna's 
conscience  pricked  her  sorely.  She  only  appeared 
to  fall  asleep.  In  truth  she  remained  very  wide 
awake  listening  to  the  bellowing  of  the  gale. 

Suppose  something  should  happen  to  Ralph  out 
in  the  storm  ?  It  was  hours,  it  seemed  to  her,  before 
the  wind  calmed  at  all.  She  visualized  her  friend 
staggering  along  the  road  toward  Clinkerport,  back 
of  the  Clay  Head  cottages  that  were  all  empty  at 
this  time  of  year.  Suppose  he  was  overcome  by  the 


The  Apex  of  the  Storm  33 

storm,  and  fell  there,  and  was  drifted  over  by  the 
snow  ? 

She  lay  and  trembled  at  these  thoughts;  but  she 
would  not  have  admitted  for  the  world  that  she 
cared ! 

After  all,  Ralph  had  been  her  playmate  for  years. 
Why,  she  could  not  remember  when  Ralph  was  not 
hanging  upon  the  outskirts  of  the  Nicholet  family. 
He  was  as  omnipresent,  as  she  had  told  him,  as 
Aunt  Ida.  And  Miss  Ida  Nicholet  had  ever  been 
Lorna's  guardian. 

The  girl  was  the  youngest  of  a  goodly  number 
of  brothers  and  sisters ;  but  her  mother,  Mr.  Nicho- 
let's  second  wife,  had  died  at  Lorna's  birth.  Miss 
Ida  had  come  into  the  big  house  at  Harbor  Bar 
at  that  time  and  assumed  entire  control — at  least 
of  Lorna. 

The  other  girls  and  boys  had  grown  up  and  flown 
the  nest.  Mr.  Nicholet  was  a  busy  man  of  studious 
habits  who,  if  the  housemaid  had  come  into  his 
library,  kissed  him  on  his  bald  crown,  and  asked 
him  for  twenty  dollars,  would  have  produced  the 
money  without  question,  said,  "Yes,  my  child,"  and 
considered  that  he  had  done  his  duty  by  his  youngest 
daughter. 

Lorna  had  often  passed  him  on  the  street  and  he 
had  not  known  her. 

But  Mr.  Nicholet  subscribed  to  everything  Miss 
Ida,  his  energetic  sister,  said.  If  she  declared  it  was 


34  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

the  right  thing  for  Lorna  to  marry  Ralph  Endicott 
— that  ended  the  matter  as  far  as  Mr.  Nicholet  was 
concerned.  Lorna  knew  it  to  be  quite  useless  to 
appeal  to  him. 

By  and  by  it  began  to  rain — torrentially.  This, 
following  the  snow  which  had  drifted  so  heavily 
during  the  evening,  somewhat  relieved  Lorna's 
anxiety.  The  rain  would  flood  the  roads  and  make 
them  impassable,  even  if  Ralph  could  repair  his 
car;  but  no  wanderer  on  foot  would  be  drifted  over 
by  rain. 

She  heard  Tobias  go  down  and  up  the  spiral  stair 
case  more  than  once.  He  even  went  out  of  the  light 
house  on  one  occasion.  That  was  soon  after  Ralph 
had  gone  and  while  the  storm  was  still  high.  But 
the  lightkeeper  had  quickly  returned. 

Dawn  came  at  last,  clutching  at  the  window  with 
wan  fingers.  The  pale  light  grew  slowly.  Lorna 
heard  Tobias  rattling  the  stove-hole  covers  as  he 
built  the  kitchen  fire.  Then  the  odor  of  coffee 
reached  her  nostrils,  and  Miss  Heppy  awoke. 


CHAPTER  IV 

PROPHECIES 

LORNA  appeared  in  the  lighthouse  kitchen  with 
red  eyelids  and  the  bruised  look  about  her  eyes  that 
usually  advertises  the  lack  of  sleep  in  the  case  of 
all  dark-eyed  people.  But  she  smiled  and  thanked 
Miss  Heppy  and  Tobias  briskly  for  their  kindness. 

"I  am  sure  I  do  not  know  what  I  should  have 
done  if  you  had  not  taken  me  in.  Did  the  storm 
do  much  damage  in  your  best  chamber,  Miss 
Heppy?" 

"I  ain't  had  time  to  see,  child,"  replied  the  spin 
ster.  "Tobias  will  have  to  get  a  new  winder  frame, 
I  cal'late.  You  got  it  boarded  up  tight,  Tobias  ?" 

"Tight's  the  word,"  her  brother  assured  her. 

"I  hope  nothing  has  happened  to  our  house  on 
Clay  Head,"  Lorna  said. 

"Not  likely.  Them  storm  shutters  and  doors 
Miss  Ida  insisted  on  putting  on  are  a  good  thing,  I 
allow,"  the  lightkeeper  observed. 

"We'd  ought  to  have  outside  blinds  to  our  lower 
windows,"  his  sister  complained.  "But  the  Gov 
ernment  don't  think  so." 

"Now,  don't  let's  get  onto  politics,"  said  Tobias, 
35 


36  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

his  eyes  twinkling.  "Ye  know,  Lorny,  Heppy  and 
me  votes  dif'rent  tickets,  and  jest  at  present  she's 
ag'in  the  Government." 

"Oh,  you  hush!"  said  Miss  Heppy,  as  Lorna' s 
laugh  chimed  in  unison  with  Tobias's  mellow 
chuckle. 

"Is  it  going  to  clear,  Mr.  Bassett  ?"  the  girl  asked. 

"I  guess. likely.  Ain't  been  but  one  storm  so  fur 
that  didn't  clear.  And  that's  this  one.  But  I  give 
it  as  my  opinion  that  it  was  a  bad  night.  Bad,"  he 
added,  cocking  an  eye  at  Lorna,  "for  anybody  who 
had  to  be  out  in  it." 

"Now,  Tobias !"  ejaculated  his  sister. 

"Them  on  shipboard,  I  mean,  o'  course,"  the 
lightkeeper  hastened  to  say. 

Lorna  ignored  this  byplay.  She  would  not  reveal 
in  any  case  that  she  had  felt  anxiety  for  Ralph. 
She  would  only  show  interest  in  the  condition  of 
the  Nicholet  house  on  the  bluff,  and  after  breakfast 
she  bundled  up  against  the  cutting  gale  that  still 
blew,  and  ventured  to  journey  cross-lots  to  the 
summer  residences. 

The  road,  as  Lorna  had  supposed,  was  badly 
washed  by  the  rain  where  it  was  not  drifted  with 
mushy  snow.  She  wore  Miss  Heppy's  overshoes 
and  waded  ankle  deep  in  slush  as  she  crossed  the 
barrens  toward  the  steep  ascent  of  the  Clay  Head. 
At  the  foot  of  this  bluff  she  struck  into  the  patrol- 
path — that  well-defined  trail  made  by  the  surfmen 


Prophecies  37 

who  patrol  every  yard  of  the  outer  Cape  Cod  coast, 
from  the  Big  End  at  the  tip  near  Provincetown, 
down  to  Monomoy  Point  south  of  Chatham. 

It  was  slippery  under  foot,  and  the  wind  was  still 
strong.  The  clouds  were  breaking,  however,  and 
Lorna  could  see  clear  across  the  wide-mouthed  bay. 
She  observed  a  gleam  of  light  reflected  from  the  cu 
pola  of  the  life-saving  station  at  Upper  Trillion.  A 
steam  tug  towing  a  brick  barge,  that  had  run  into 
Clinkerport  ahead  of  the  storm,  was  now  breasting 
the  after-swell,  putting  out  to  sea. 

The  Nicholet  house  was  the  first  in  the  row  of 
summer  houses  which  overhung  the  beach  toward 
Clinkerport.  Lorna  was  sheltered  from  the  wind 
when  she  approached  the  side  door  to  which  she 
had  the  key. 

As  she  mounted  the  steps  she  noted  with  surprise 
that  one  of  the  cellar  windows  right  at  hand  was  un 
covered.  The  plank  shutter  lay  upon  the  snow,  and 
there  were  marks  about  the  window  that  might 
have  been  made  by  somebody  entering  the  house. 

"And  such  a  night  as  last  night  was,"  murmured 
the  amazed  girl.  "I  can  scarcely  believe  there  was 
a  thief  here." 

Indeed,  marauders  of  any  character  were  seldom 
a  menace  upon  the  Cape.  The  summer  people  who 
occupied  the  houses  along  Clay  Head  merely  locked 
their  doors  in  winter  and  left  them  until  the  next 
season  without  fear  of  trespassers. 


38  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Lorna  slowly  fitted  the  key  in  the  lock  and 
opened  the  door.  She  entered  softly.  Could  it  be 
possible  that  an  intruder  was  now  in  the  house? 

At  the  left  of  this  side  entry  was  a  small  sitting- 
room.  When  the  outer  door  was  closed  she  dis 
tinctly  felt  a  warm  current  of  air  from  between  the 
draperies  that  had  been  left  hanging  in  the  sitting- 
room  doorway. 

Amazed,  she  stepped  hurriedly  forward  and  held 
aside  the  curtain  to  look  in.  There  was  a  smoul 
dering  fire  in  the  grate.  Lying  outstretched  upon 
the  floor,  with  a  rug  wrapped  about  him,  was  a  man. 
He  was  asleep,  and  for  the  moment  Lorna  could  not 
see  his  face,  nor  did  she  imagine  who  he  could  be. 

She  tiptoed  around  the  table,  and  then  she  saw 
the  sleeper's  flaxen  head.  Suddenly  he  started, 
rolled  over,  and  sat  up.  He  opened  sleep-clouded 
eyes. 

"Is — is  that  you,  Lorna?"  he  yawned. 

The  girl's  face  flamed  and  her  eyes  fairly  sparked 
with  wrath.  She  made  a  futile  gesture  with  both 
hands  as  she  backed  away  from  Ralph  Endicott. 

"Oh,  you— you " 

She  could  not  articulate  her  disgust.  Of  all  the 
perfectly  useless  fellows  she  had  ever  heard  of, 
Ralph  took  the  palm! 

Without  uttering  another  word  the  girl  left  the 
room  and  the  house.  Ralph  had  managed  to  spoil 
everything,  after  all.  He  had  not  gone  to  Clinker- 


Prophecies  39 

port  and  telephoned  to  Harbor  Bar.  The  tongue  of 
scandal  would  not  be  stilled  as  she  had  hoped  it 
might.  And  Lorna  Nicholet  considered  it  quite 
scandalous  for  her  friends  to  believe  that  she  and 
Ralph  Endicott  were  "as  good  as  engaged." 

"I'll  never  forgive  him !  I'll  never  forgive  him !" 
she  cried  over  and  over,  as  she  tramped  back  to  the 
light. 

She  made  no  comment  then  to  either  Miss  Heppy 
or  Tobias  about  what  she  had  found  at  the  house. 
She  did  not  even  notice  the  old  lightkeeper's  sly 
glances.  He  had  followed  Ralph's  footprints  by 
lantern-light  in  the  storm  the  night  before  and  knew 
where  the  young  man  had  taken  shelter  after  being 
driven  from  the  lighthouse  by  Lorna's  sharp  tongue. 

Endicott  did  not  appear  that  day  at  the  Twin 
Rocks  Light.  But  he  must  have  gone  on  to  Clink- 
erport  after  Lorna's  unexpected  visit  to  the  house 
on  Clay  Head  aroused  him,  for  the  next  day — the 
shell  road  having  become  passable  again  for  motor 
cars — he  came  out  with  a  truck  from  the  garage 
to  tow  his  roadster  into  town. 

"You  can  go  back  with  the  garage  man  and  me, 
and  I  will  hire  a  car  to  take  you  home  to  Harbor 
Bar  to-night,"  Endicott  said  sullenly  enough,  to 
Lorna. 

"I  will  go  to  Clinkerport  with  the  garage  man," 
the  girl  promptly  rejoined.  "But  you  need  not 
bother  about  me  after  I  arrive  there.  I  can  manage 


40  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

to  get  home  by  myself.     The  trains  are  running." 

"Well,  I  telephoned  your  Aunt  Ida  I  would  bring 
you  home,"  he  said  gloomily.  "They — they  were 
some  stirred  up  about  us." 

"They  need  be  stirred  up  no  further  about  us. 
I  tell  you  I  have  got  through  with  you,  Ralph  Endi- 
cott — for  good  and  all!  I  will  not  be  forced  by 
my  family  to  endure  your  company." 

"It's  fifty-fifty,"  he  rejoined.  "You  don't  have 
to  ride  any  high  horse  about  it.  I'm  no  movre  pleased! 
with  the  prospect  of  catering  to  your  whims,  I 
assure  you." 

"You  are  no  gentleman!"  she  declared,  her  little 
fists  clenched. 

"At  least,  I  am  telling  you  the  truth,  Lorna,"  he 
said  grimly.  "Perhaps  being  a  gentleman  precludes 
one's  being  candid." 

"Oh — you!"  she  ejaculated  again  and  turned  her 
back  on  him. 

Tobias  watched  them  depart  with  puckered  face. 
Separately  the  young  folk  had  shaken  hands  with 
the  lightkeeper  and  his  sister,  and  thanked  them 
warmly  for  their  hospitality.  But  when  the  two 
cars  started  Lorna  sat  up  stiffly,  "eyes  front,"  be 
side  the  garage  man  and  would  not  look  back  for 
fear  of  seeing  Ralph  Endicott  in  the  rear  car. 

"Just  as  friendly  to  each  other  as  a  couple  o' 
strange  dogs,"  observed  Tobias.  "She's  on  her  ear, 
sure  enough.  And  Ralphie  is  just  as  stuffy  as  they 


Prophecies  41 

make  'em.  What  do  you  reckon  will  come  of  it, 
Heppy?" 

"1  know  one  thing,  Tobias,  and  that  ain't  two," 
declared  his  sister  flatly.  "None  o'  your  inter 
ference  is  goin'  to  help  matters.  Don't  you  think 
it." 

"Wai — now — I  dunno.  If  I  can  help  a  likely 
couple  like  Lorna  and  Ralph  to  an  understand 
ing " 

"Huh!  Matches  are  made  in  heaven,"  said  his 
sister. 

"Oh,  sugar!  They  don't  often  smell  so  when  you 
light  'em,"  chuckled  Tobias. 

"Oh,  you  hush!" 

"I'm  thinkin'  serious,  Heppy,  of  helping  them  two 
foolish  young  ones  to  an  understanding." 

"You'd  better  mind  your  own  business,  Tobias 
Bassett." 

"Ain't  it  my  business?"  he  queried,  his  head 
cocked  on  one  side  watching  the  disappearing  motor 
cars.  "You  know  the  Bible  says  we  should  all  turn 
to  an'  help  get  our  neighbor's  ass  out  o'  the  pit "- 

"An'  you'll  be  the  biggest  jack  of  all  if  you  in 
terfere  in  the  affairs  of  them  young  ones." 

"I  dunno " 

"You'd  better  know !"  exclaimed  Miss  Heppy,  ex 
asperated.  "For  love's  sake!  who  ever  told  you, 
Tobias  Bassett,  that  you  knowed  enough  to  ven 
ture  where  even  angels  fear  to  tread  ?" 


42  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Oh!  Hum!  Then  I  guess  you  don't  cal'late 
after  all  that  matches  is  made  in  heaven,"  he 
chuckled.  "And  I  give  it  as  my  opinion,  Heppy, 
that  marrying  and  giving  in  marriage  ain't  never 
been  angels'  jobs.  Mebbe  a  mere  human  being  like 
me  might  have  more  of  a  sleight  at  matchmaking 
than  the  heavenly  host — if  anybody  should  drive  up 
an'  ax  ye." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  UNEXPECTED 

Miss  HEPPY  took  pride  in  her  front  yard.  The 
immediate  vicinity  of  a  lighthouse  is  not  often  a 
beauty-spot,  and  that  of  the  Twin  Rocks  Light  was 
for  the  most  part  bleached  sand.  Nevertheless  the 
lightkeeper's  sister  never  failed  to  make  her  garden 
in  early  May. 

The  soil  in  which  she  coaxed  to  cheerful  bloom 
old  maid's  pinks,  bachelor  buttons,  ladies'  slippers," 
marigolds  and  a  dozen  other  old-fashioned  flowers, 
was  brought  from  a  distance.  The  boisterous 
autumn  winds  always  drifted  over  the  beds  with 
sand;  yet  each  spring  Miss  Heppy,  like  nature  her 
self,  made  all  things  new  again. 

"I  vum!"  said  her  brother  in  his  good-natured, 
if  critical  way,  "I  don't  see  why  you  do  it.  All  you 
have  to  begin  on  every  year  is  the  conch-shells  and 
white  pebbles  for  borders.  Sea  sand  mixed  with  its 
loam  in  such  quantity  would  ha'  sp'iled  the  Garden 
of  Eden  for  any  agricultooral  purposes." 

"This  ain't  no  Garden  of  Eden,  I  do  allow,"  his 
sister  said.  "Wherever  them  scientific  fellers  under- 

43 


44  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

take  to  locate  what  was  mankind's  first  home,  they 
never  say  'twas  here  on  the  Cape." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  chuckled  Tobias.  "It  took  them 
frozen-faced  Puritan  ancestors  of  our'n  to  choose 
the  Cape  to  locate  on  an'  set  the  Provincetown  folks 
and  the  Plymouth  folks  a-fightin'  over  which  town 
should  be  celebrated  in  song  an'  story  as  the  real 
landin'  place  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers." 

"Humph!"  sniffed  Hephzibah,  "we  hear  enough 
about  the  Pilgrim  Fathers.  I  cal'late  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  the  Pilgrim  Mothers  there  wouldn't  have 
been  any  settlement  here  a-tall." 

"Ye-as,"  agreed  Tobias,  pursing  his  lips.  "But 
the  women  didn't  have  the  vote  then,  so  they  didn't 
get  advertised  none  to  speak  of.  Of  course,  there 
was  Priscilla  Alden — she  that  was  a  Mullens.  Long- 
feller  advertised  her  a  good  bit,  She's  the  only 
woman  among  the  Pilgrims  that  we  hear  much 
about.  I  cal'late  'twas  because  she  was  one  that 
knowed  her  own  mind." 

"No,"  said  his  sister,  whose  habit  of  looking  at 
the  darker  side  of  life  could  not  be  denied.  "No. 
The  first  woman  the  history  of  them  times  tells 
about  was  drowned  off  the  Mayflower  as  she  lay  in 
Provincetown  Harbor." 

"Oh,  sugar !  That's  so,"  chuckled  Tobias.  "She 
was  crowded  overboard  by  the  deckload  of  furniture 
the  packet  carried.  I  never  did  understand  how 


The  Unexpected  45 

such  a  small  craft  could  have  brought  across  all  that 
household  stuff  folks  claim  was  in  her  cargo." 

But  Miss  Heppy's  reflections  were  not  to  be 
turned  by  frivolity. 

"She,"  the  spinster  said,  with  a  sigh,  "was  the 
first  of  us  Cape  Cod  women  to  suffer  from  the 
savage  sea." 

"Oh,  sugar,  Heppy !"  ejaculated  Tobias.  "You're 
the  beatin'est  for  seining  up  trouble  and  seeing  the 
blackest  side  of  things.  Enough  to  give  a  man  the 
fantods,  you  are!  Hello!  Here's  the  mail  packet 
heaving  into  sight." 

A  bony  horse  with  a  head  so  long  that  he  might 
easily  eat  his  oats  out  of  a  flour  barrel,  appeared 
from  around  the  turn  in  the  Lower  Trillion  road. 
He  drew  behind  him  a  buckboard  which  sagged 
under  the  weight  of  Amos  Pickering,  the  rural  mail 
carrier. 

"Maybe  he's  got  a. letter  foj  us,"  suggested  Miss 
Heppy  with  some  eagerness.  "You  go  see,  Tobias." 

The  lightkeeper  dropped  his  spade  and  made  a 
speaking  trumpet  of  his  hands.  "Ahoy!  Ahoy, 
Amos!  What's  the  good  word?" 

The  mail  carrier  waved  an  answering  hand  before 
diving  into  the  sack  at  his  feet  and  bringing  to  light, 
as  Tobias  strode  down  to  the  roadside,  a  letter  and 
a  paper. 

"Wai,  now,"  said  the  lightkeeper,  "that's  what  ye 
might  call  a  heavy  haul  for  us.  I  cal'late,  Amos,  if 


46  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

all  your  customers  got  as  few  parcels  o'  mail  as  what 
me  and  Heppy  does,  you'd  purt'  near  go  out  o' 
business." 

"It's  got  a  black  border  onto  it,  Tobias,"  said  the 
mail  carrier,  voicing  the  curiosity  that  ate  like  acid 
on  his  mind.  "And  it's  postmarked  at  Batten.  Ain't 
that  where  your  Uncle  Jethro  lives?" 
,  "Sure  enough!"  agreed  the  lightkeeper.  "But 
'tain't  his  hand  o'  write — nossir!" 

"Be  you  sure?" 

"Surest  thing  you  know,  Amos.  'Cause  why? 
Cap'n  Jethro  Potts  never  learned  to  more  than  make 
his  mark — if  that  much." 

"I  cal'late  he's  dead,  Tobias." 

"Then  it's  sartain  he  didn't  send  this  letter  with 
the  black  border." 

"Well,  it  must  be  something  about  him,  don't  you 
think?"  suggested  the  mail  carrier  leaning  forward, 
his  eager  eyes  twinkling. 

"Why,  we  ain't  in  correspondence  with  nobody 
down  there  to  Batten,"  said  Tobias  slowly,  and 
holding  the  letter  far  off  as  though  he  feared  it 
might  explode. 

Miss  Heppy  had  got  to  her  feet  now  and  came 
forward. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Tobias?"  she  cried. 
"Why  don't  you  open  it?  Amos  won't  get  home 
to-night  if  you  don't." 


The  Unexpected  47 

Her  gentle  sarcasm  was  quite  lost  on  the  two 
men.  Her  brother  shook  his  head. 

"Can't  open  it,"  he  said. 

"Why  not,  for  love's  sake?"  demanded  the  ex 
asperated  Heppy. 

"  'Cause  it's  for  you,"  chuckled  Tobias,  thrusting 
the  letter  into  her  hand. 

"For  love's  sake!"  repeated  Miss  Heppy  much 
flustered.  "I  can't  read  it,  Tobias.  I  ain't  got  my 
specs  here." 

"No  more  have  I,"  her  brother  rejoined.  "But 
I  cal'late  I  can  read  it  for  you  if  'tain't  writ  in 
Choctaw." 

The  others,  Amos  no  less  than  Heppy,  remained 
eagerly  expectant  while  Tobias  worked  his  stubbed 
finger  under  the  gummed  flap  of  the  envelope  and 
tore  it  open.  The  folded  sheet  of  paper  he  drew 
forth  was  likewise  bordered  with  black.  He  held  it 
off,  for  he  was  far-sighted,  and  read  aloud  slowly : 

"'Batten,  Mass. 
"  'Miss  Hephzibah  Bassett, 
"  Twin  Rocks  Light. 
"  'Dear  Miss  Heppy : — 

"  'Your  uncle,  Captain  Jethro  Potts,  of  this  town, 
passed  into  rest  this  day  at  noon.  The  funeral  is  set 
for  Thursday  at  ten  in  the  morning,  that  being  high 
tide.  You  and  your  family  is  hereby  notified  and 
are  requested  to  be  present  at  the  unsealing  of  Cap- 


48  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

tain  Potts'  will  in  Judge  Waddams'  office  which  will 
follow  the  ceremony  at  the  grave. 

"  'Your  relation  by  marriage, 

"  'ICIVILLA  POTTS/  " 

Then  followed  the  date.  The  reading  of  the  letter 
for  the  moment  left  the  trio — even  the  mail  carrier 
— stunned.  The  latter  finally  said : 

"Well !  Well !  That's  sad  news— 'tis,  for  a  fact. 
I  expect  he  left  a  tidy  bit  of  money?" 

"Poor  Uncle  Jethro !"  murmured  Miss  Heppy. 

"I  don't  know  how  much  money  Uncle  Jethro  had 
to  leave,"  said  Tobias  slowly.  "But  however  much 
or  little  'twas,  he  left  it  all.  That's  sure." 

Amos  gathered  up  the  reins. 

"Course  you'll  both  go  down  to  the  funeral  ?" 

"  'Tain't  likely,"  Tobias  said.  "Somebody's  got 
to  stay  and  nuss  this  light,  and  I  cal'late  'twill  be 
me." 

But  Miss  Heppy  would  not  hear  to  that.  She 
declared  it  to  be  her  brother's  duty  to  go  and  repre 
sent  their  branch  of  the  family.  To  tell  the  truth, 
Miss  Heppy  had  never  in  her  life  been  farther  from 
Clinkerport  than  to  the  East  Harwich  Fair,  while 
Tobias  was,  of  course,  like  all  deep-bottom  sailors, 
"a  traveled  man." 

Came  Thursday,  and  Zeke  Bassett  arrived  with 
his  motor  car  to  take  Tobias  to  the  train.  It  was 
rather  an  early  hour  for  a  man  to  climb  into  his 


The  Unexpected  49 

Sunday  suit,  and  the  lightkeeper  hated  formal  dress. 

He  should  have  been  well  used  to  the  black  suit 
by  this  time.  It  had  served  him  for  state  occasions 
for  full  twenty  years.  When  it  was  bought  Tobias 
had  not  been  so  full-bodied  as  he  was  now.  He  was 
a  sturdy  man,  built  brickwise,  with  more  corners 
than  curves,  and  the  black  short-tailed  coat  strained 
at  each  and  every  seam  to  keep  him  within  its 
bounds. 

To  have  buttoned  it  across  his  chest  would  have 
rent  button  from  fabric.  It  was  so  tight  at  the 
armholes  that  his  elbows  were  held  from  his  sides 
and  his  shoulders  squared  in  a  most  military  fash 
ion.  Tight  as  the  coat  was  at  these  points,  there 
were  three  sets  of  wrinkles  plainly  evident  at  the 
back — two  perpendicular  and  one  set  horizontal. 
Altogether  this  ensemble  of  dress  gave  one  the  im 
pression  of  a  rather  bulgy  man  being  slowly  choked 
to  death  by  his  own  habit. 

"I  don't  mind  wearin'  'em  on  the  Sabbath,"  con 
fessed  Tobias.  "To  keep  in  a  proper  frame  of  mind 
to  enjoy  one  of  Elder  Hardraven's  sermons,  who's 
as  melancholy  as  a  widder  woman  with  six  small 
children,  a  feller  needs  to  have  something  wearing 
on  his  mind  b'sides  his  hair.  It  makes  me  right  re 
ligious  feeling  to  put  on  Sunday-go-to-meeting 
clothes." 

"For  love's  sake!'''  his  sister  said  tartly,  "you're 


50  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

going  to  a  funeral.  I  should  think  you  would  ex 
pect  to  feel  religious." 

"If  I  do,"  rejoined  Tobias  grimly,  "me  and  the 
minister  will  be  'bout  the  only  ones  there  that  feel 
that  way.  This  here  is  going  to  be  a  gathering  of 
the  vultures,  Heppy." 

"Why,  Tobias,  how  you  do  talk!" 

"Yep.  The  Pottses  and  their  rel'tives  are  going 
to  gather  from  far  and  near  to  hear  the  reading  of 
Uncle  Jethro's  will.  Icivilly  Potts  would  never  have 
writ  us  if  Judge  Waddams  hadn't  told  her  to.  The 
Pottses  of  Batten  would  like  to  make  the  fun'ral 
and  reading  of  the  will  a  close-corporation  affair,  I 
cal'late.  But  'tis  evident  Uncle  Jethro  must  have 
mentioned  others  in  his  last  will  and  testament." 

"Oh,  Tobias!"  gasped  his  sister,  clasping  her 
hands. 

"Yep,"  he  rejoined.  "If  the  old  captain  left  us 
something,  you'll  be  getting  your  wish,  won't  you?" 

"Oh,  don't  Tobias!"  she  cried.  "That  sounds 
awful!" 

"Oh,  sugar!"  drawled  the  practical  lightkeeper, 
"we  might's  well  own  to  it.  We  never  bothered 
Uncle  Jethro  none  endurin'  his  life*  He  was  here 
and  took  pot-luck  with  us  many's  the  time.  He  did 
seem  to  like  your  fishballs  an'  biscuit,  Heppy.  If 
he  hadn't  had  prop'ty  to  watch  down  there  at  Bat 
ten,  I  cal'late  he  might  nigh  have  lived  here  all  the 
time.  So  why  shouldn't  we  have  expectations  ?" 


The  Unexpected  51 

"Oh,  Tobias !"  she  murmured. 

"I  am  frank  to  say,"  the  lightkeeper  declared, 
"that  I'm  going  down  there  to  Batten  with  expecta 
tions.  Uncle  Jethro  is  dead,  and  I  cal'late  to  show 
respect  to  his  memory.  If  the  sermon  is  long  I'll 
likely  go  to  sleep  during  it.  But  I  don't  cal'late  to 
sleep  none  in  Judge  Waddams'  office  when  the  will 
is  being  read." 

His  perfectly  frank  acknowledgment  shocked 
Miss  Heppy.  But  that  was  Tobias  Bassett's  way. 
He  gave  no  hostage  to  Mrs.  Grundy  in  any  particu 
lar.  No  odor  of  hypocrisy  clung  to  anything  he  did 
or  said.  If  he  had  ever  occasion  to  be  untruthful 
he  lied  "straight  from  the  shoulder" — without  any 
circumlocution. 

In  his  Sunday  clothes,  however,  Tobias  o'  Twin 
Rocks  Light  was  not  likely  to  go  to  sleep  under  the 
dreariest  funeral  sermon  that  was  ever  preached  on 
the  Cape.  The  embrace  of  the  Iron  Virgin  of  the 
Inquisition  could  have  been  little  more  uncomfort 
able  than  that  of  his  Sunday  suit. 

The  Mariners'  Chapel  at  Batten  was  set  upon 
one  of  the  loneliest  sites  to  be  found  along  the  entire 
length  of  the  Cape's  ocean  shore.  Weather-bleached 
dunes  and  flats  on  which  sparse  herbage  grew  sur 
rounded  the  chapel.  But  the  building  was  centrally 
located  and  tapped  a  good-sized  community.  The 
gulls  clamored  about  its  squat  bell-tower  and  the 
marching  sands  drifted  against  its  foundation.  The 


52  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

northeasterly  windows  which  overlooked  the  sea 
were  ground  by  the  flying  sand  to  a  pebbly  rough 
ness.  The  high  roof  beams  were  hand-hewn,  for  the 
chapel  had  weathered  at  least  four-score  years.  The 
pews  were  high-backed  pens  with  doors.  The  old- 
time  worshipper  in  the  Puritan  House  of  God  pre 
ferred  to  be  shut  in  from  his  neighbors,  and  he 
likewise  kept  his  religion  a  matter  of  close  com 
munion.  The  uncushioned  seats  were  the  most  un 
comfortable  that  the  ingenuity  of  man  could  devise. 

There  had  been  no  service  at  the  house.  Such  a 
thing  as  a  private  funeral  was  not  known  in  this 
community.  A  funeral  is  one  of  the  most  impor 
tant  incidents  in  the  existence  of  Cape  Cod  folks, 
and  at  Batten  (which  was  a  clam-digging  village) 
was  held  at  high  sea.  It  was  expected  of  the  min 
ister  that  he  should  preach  a  full  and  complete  ser 
mon  over  the  remains. 

The  bustling  old  undertaker,  in  shabby  black 
broadcloth  and  with  his  iron-grey  hair  brushed  for 
ward  over  his  ears,  giving  him  the  look  of  a  super- 
serious  monkey,  marshaled  the  audience  after  the 
sermon  to  march  down  one  aisle  past  the  coffin  and! 
out  the  other  aisle. 

The  grim,  mahogany-hued  face  of  Captain 
Jethro  Potts,  the  lines  of  which  even  the  touch  of 
death  could  not  soften,  confronted  his  neighbors 
from  the  coffin.  His  countenance  was  not  composed 
as  the  dead  usually  are ;  but  looked  as  though  he  lay 


The  Unexpected  53 

there  in  ambush,  ready  to  jump  out  at  one.  There 
was  even  the  glitter  of  a  beady  eyeball  behind  the 
thin  lashes  drawn  down  over  his  eye. 

"He  looks  mighty  like  he  was  a-watchin'  of  ye," 
observed  the  undertaker  to  Tobias.  "I  never  see 
a  corp'  more  nateral." 

"You  said  it.  'Nateral'  is  right,"  agreed  the  light- 
keeper.  "I  cal'late  Uncle  Jethro  has  got  something 
to  spring  on  his  rel'tives.  He's  watchin'  of  'em 
yet." 

Whether  the  other  members  of  the  family  had 
the  same  feeling  about  the  dead  man's  alertness  or 
not,  they  saw  the  lid  of  the  coffin  screwed  down 
with  complacency.  Tobias  was  one  of  those  who 
bore  the  coffin  out  to  the  churchyard  and  lowered  it 
into  the  newly  opened  grave,  the  sides  of  which 
had  to  be  bulkheaded  to  keep  the  sand  from  cav 
ing  in. 

Following  the  prayer  there  was  a  little  lingering 
in  the  graveyaird.  Judge  Waddams  had  an 
nounced  that  he  would  read  the  dead  man's  will  in 
his  office  an  hour  later.  Those  interested  began 
drifting  back  to  the  village  along  the  white  shell 
road. 


CHAPTER  VI 
DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES 

A  DOZEN  or  more  grim- faced  men  and  women 
were  gathered  in  the  lawyer's  office  when  Tobias 
Bassett  entered.  He  had  seen  them  all  at  the  church 
and  grave,  but  there  had  been  no  opportunity  to 
greet  personally  the  Pottses,  the  Bassetts  and  the 
Dawsons,  names  which  for  the  most  part  made  up 
the  roster  of  Captain  Jethro's  immediate  family. 

The  lightkeeper  proceeded  to  speak  to  each  in  turn. 
He  was  of  no  grim  disposition  himself,  and  was 
sport  enough  in  any  case  to  shake  hands  with  his 
deadliest  enemy  before  the  battle. 

His  smile  and  cheerful  word  were  for  all,  even 
for  Icivilla  Potts  who  was,  of  all  the  dead  captain's 
relatives,  the  one  who  considered  that  Tobias's  in 
terest  in  the  will  should  be  infinitesimal.  She  had 
lived  next  door  to  Captain  Jethro's  little  box  of  a 
house  for  thirty  years,  and  had  kept  a  sharp  and 
hungry  eye  upon  him  and  his  affairs  during  all  of 
that  time. 

"Yes,"  she  was  saying,  "he  depended  upon  me  for 
everything.  If  Cap'n  Jethro  had  been  my  own 
father  I  could  have  taken  no  more  pains  with  him." 

54 


Dead  Men's  Shoes    .  55 

"I  don't  doubt  it!  I  don't  doubt  it!"  put  in  Mrs. 
Andrew  Dawson,  as  sharp  as  any  sparrow.  "Cap'n 
Jethro  told  me  that  you'd  interfered  with  everything 
you  could,  the  whole  endurin'  time.  He  said,  the 
Cap'n  did,  that  you'd  change  the  sun  and  moon,  let 
alone  the  stars,  in  their  courses,  if  so  be  you  could!" 

"Haw!  Haw!"  chortled  Isaac  Bassett,  a  bewhis- 
kered  old  man  whose  bleary  eyes  and  empurpled 
nose  told  the  tale  of  much  secret  tippling.  "Le's 
speak  right  out  in  meetin'  and  tell  all  we  know. 
Who'll  be  the  first  of  you  women  to  tell  how  ye 
fished  ter  get  the  old  Cap'n  ter  come  and  live  with 
ye?" 

"Why,  Ike  Bassett!  How  you  talk!"  was  the 
chorus  of  denial. 

"  'Tis  so,"  chuckled  Isaac.  "Jethro  told  me  once 
that  purt'  nigh  every  woman  that  was  any  kin  to 
him — and  some  that  warn't — had  offered  to  make 
a  home  for  him.  Come  to  think  of  it,  though,"  he 
added,  turning  a  bleary  eye  on  Tobias,  "there  was 
one  he  said  that  hadn't  bothered  him  none  that-a- 
way.  How  is  your  sister  Heppy,  Tobe?" 

"Wai,  she  ain't  no  younger,"  said  the  lightkeeper, 
cheerfully.  "Otherwise  she  is  spry." 

Judge  Waddams  entered  at  this  point,  before  the 
tide  of  family  acrimony  could  rise  higher.  He  was 
a  soft-stepping,  palm-rubbing  man,  with  a  bald 
crown  and  iron-grey  burnsides.  His  clean-lipped 
mouth  was  a  slit  no  wider  than  the  opening  of  his 


56  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

hip  pocket.  Yet  he  was  not  an  unsympathetic  man, 
as  his  mild  brown  eyes  betrayed. 

"Well,  friends,  we  are  gathered  here  on  an  oc 
casion  that  I  had  hoped  might  be  put  off  for  a 
score  of  years  yet. ,  But  Cap'n  Jethro  broke  up  fast 
during  the  past  year,  as  such  men  as  he  often  do. 
When  their  old  hulks  strike  the  rocks  of  age  they 
go  to  pieces  quickly. 

"But  Cap'n  Jethro  took  time  by  the  forelock  and 
made  all  his  property  arrangements  in  good  season. 
He  converted  everything  into  cash — even  to  the 
house  he  lived  in  to  the  last — and  to  settle  his  estate 
is  going  to  be  a  very  easy  matter. 

"Are  we  all  here?"  proceeded  Judge  Waddams, 
looking  slowly  about  the  room.  His  gaze  fastened 
upon  Tobias.  "I  don't  see  your  sister,  Miss  Heppy, 
Mr.  Bassett?" 

"You'll  have  to  look  twice  at  me,  then,  Judge," 
chuckled  the  lightkeeper.  "She  couldn't  make  it 
to  come,  nohow." 

Judge  Waddams  gravely  nodded,,  unlocked  a 
drawer  in  his  table,  and  drew  forth  a  folded  docu 
ment  of  portentous  appearance.  There  was  con 
siderable  stiffening  in  the  chairs  and  a  general  clear 
ing  of  throats.  The  Judge  adjusted  his  eyeglasses. 

"Captain  Jethro  Potts  entrusted  me  with  the 
drawing  of  this  will,  and  it  was  sealed  in  my  pres 
ence,  and  in  that  of  two  witnesses  who  have  abso- 


Dead  Men's  Shoes  57 

lutely  no  interest  in  the  provisions  of  the  instru 
ment,"  he  said  officially.  "I  will  now  read  it." 

The  introduction  and  opening  paragraphs  held 
the  breathless  attention  of  his  audience.  There  fol 
lowed  itemized  gifts  of  personal  property,  such  as 
the  ancient  furnishings  of  Captain  Potts's  little 
home — keepsakes  that  might  or  might  not  satisfy  a 
sentimental  feeling  in  the  hearts  of  the  recipients. 

Icivilla  Potts  preened  herself  over  the  fact  that 
the  walnut  highboy  which  had  been  the  chief  piece 
of  furniture  in  Captain  Jethro's  parlor  had  been  left 

to  her  by  the  maker  of  the  will.    Then : 

i 

"  'Item :  One  certain  two-gallon  jug  containing 
Jamaica  rum,  to  my  mother's  second  cousin,  Isaac 
Bassett — that  remaining  portion  as  he  shall  not  have 
already  drunk  at  the  unsealing  of  this  instrument.' ' 

"Heh  ?  By  mighty !  An'  I  drunk  the  last  drop 
o'  that  rum  just  before  we  took  him  to  the  church 
to-day,"  exploded  Isaac,  more  in  sorrow  than  in 
anger.  "Wai,  I  always  did  say  that  you  couldn't 
get  the  best  of  Cap'n  Jethro  Potts,  dead  or  alive — 
an'  this  proves  it !" 

"Sarves  ye  right,"  declared  Mrs.  Andrew  Daw- 
son,  as  the  lawyer  frowned  down  Isaac's  interrup 
tion. 

All  those  present — and  some  others — had  been 
named  for  legacies  of  personal  property,  saving 


58  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Tobias.  The  other  relatives  of  the  dead  man  began 
to  gaze  curiously  upon  the  lightkeeper  as  the  list 
was  concluded — Icivilla  with  scorn. 

The  lawyer  read  gravely  the  next  partition  of  the 
will.  It  was  to  the  effect  that  the  testator,  having 
seen  clearly  that  his  relatives  hereinbefore  named 
were  covetous  of  his  money,  and  would  little  con 
sider  the  sentimental  value  of  the  above  legacies, 
bequeathed  to  each  person  the  sum  of  one  dollar  to 
be  paid  out  of  his  estate  by  the  administrator, 
Edward  Waddams. 

This  stunning  statement  smote  dumb  every  lis 
tener  save  I^aac  Bassett.  He  burst  into  a  raucous 
"Haw!  haw!"  and  slapped  his  knee  as  he  weaved 
back  and  forth  in  his  chair. 

"By  mighty!"  he  exploded,  "I  ain't  the  only  one 
old  Jethro  fooled.  Haw !  Haw !" 

The  high  squeal  of  Andrew  Dawson,  who  occa 
sionally  asserted  himself  in  spite  of  his  wife,  rose 
above  the  general  murmur  of  disappointment  and 
anger : 

"I  wanter  know,  then,  what's  to  become  of  all 
Jethro's  money !  I  wanter  know  that !" 

"If  you  folks  will  keep  quiet  long  enough  for  me 
to  do  so,  I  will  read  the  remainder  of  the  instru 
ment,"  Judge  Waddams  said  sharply. 

They  subsided.  But  there  were  few  but  red  and 
wrathful  faces  in  the  company.  Icivilla  Potts  was 


Dead  Men's  Shoes  59 

almost  bursting  with  rage.  Judge  Waddams  con 
tinued. 

The  residue  of  the  estate,  which  would  amount, 
after  all  bills  were  settled  and  fees  paid,  to  about 
six  thousand  dollars,  was  to  be  divided  equally  be 
tween  Hephzibah  Bassett  and  Tobias  Bassett,  of 
Twin  Rocks  Light,  the  two  relatives  of  all  Captain 
Jethro  Potts's  clan,  as  the  will  stated,  who  had 
never  made  him  feel  that  they  were  covetous  of  his 
money  or  wished  him  out  of  the  way  that  they 
might  get  it. 

"Oh,  sugar!"  murmured  Tobias,  actually  dis 
turbed.  "Too  bad  Cap'n  Jethro  felt  that  way  about 
it.  I  don't  believe  all  of  them  wished  him  dead." 

Judge  Waddams  looked  scornfully  over  the  com 
pany  now  expressing  to  each  other  in  no  unmistak 
able  terms  their  disappointment  and  chagrin,  and 
observed  to  the  lightkeeper : 

"There's  a-many  people's  feet  feel  that  itch  for 
dead  men's  shoes,  Tobias.  I'm  glad  you  and  Miss 
Heppy  were  favored  by  Cap'n  Jethro.  I  know  of 
none  of  his  family  more  deserving." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  rejoined  the  lightkeeper,  "I  cal'late 
Cap'n  Jethro  didn't  much  consider  me  and  Heppy's 
deserts.  It  was  to  satisfy  his  own  grudge  ag'in  'em 
that  he  done  this.  Still,  we  are  as  near  to  him  in 
blood  as  ary  one  of  the  others.  And  we  didn't 
never  cal'late  on  getting  his  money,  though  I'm 


60  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

frank  to  say  we  hoped  he'd  give  us  some  if  he  died 
first. 

"Wai,  Judge,  when  you  want  Heppy  and  me  to 
sign  papers  we'll  meet  you  at  the  Clinkerport  Bank. 
This  ain't  no  place  for  me  just  now.  Icivilly  could 
purt'  near  tear  me  apart.  I  am  going  to  escape 
while  the  escapin'  is  good,"  Tobias  concluded, 
chuckling. 

He  could  not  play  the  hypocrite  by  commiserating 
with  the  disappointed  crowd.  Nor  did  he  wish  any 
of  them  to  congratulate  him  when  their  hearts  were 
not  at  all  attuned  to  such  feeling. 

"Least  said,  soonest  mended,"  Tobias  secretly 
observed.  "Give  'em  time  to  trim  their  sails.  But 
won't  Heppy  be  purt'  near  surprised  to  death  over 
this?  Oh,  sugar!" 

He  was  in  no  mood  to  discuss  the  surprising  out 
come  of  the  funeral  of  Captain  Jethro  Potts,  even 
to  the  curious  Clinkerport  folks  who  knew  of  the 
reason  for  his  trip  down  the  coast,  and  who  saw 
him  alight  from  the  up  train  that  afternoon. 

"Wai,  how'd  ye  make  out,  Tobias?"  asked  Ben 
Durgin,  the  Clinkerport  station  agent. 

"Purt'  tollerble,"  responded  the  lightkeeper  cheer 
fully.  "Though  my  feet  do  ache  some  in  these 
shoes." 

"Did  your  Uncle  Jethro  leave  much,  Tobe  ?"  asked 
a  bolder  spirit. 


Dead  Men's  Shoes  61 

"Wai,  as  the  feller  said,  he  left  the  earth," 
chuckled  Tobias. 

"I  say !"  exclaimed  Ezra  Crouch,  whose  bump  of 
inquisitiveness  could  only  be  equaled  by  Amos 
Pickering,  the  mail  carrier's,  "didn't  they  read  the 
will,  Tobias?" 

"Oh,  sugar!  Yes.  So  they  did,"  agreed  the 
lightkeeper. 

"Wai,  then,  who's  to  get  his  money?" 

"Why — there  wasn't  nobody  forgotten,"  Tobias 
assured  him.  "No,  sir,  not  a  soul !  There  ain't  no 
rel'tive  of  Cap'n  Jethro'  that  can  honestly  say  he 
or  she  was  forgotten  in  the  will." 

Nor  was  he  more  communicative  when  he  chanced 
to  meet  Ralph  Endicott  getting  out  of  his  roadster 
in  front  of  the  Clinkerport  Inn. 

"Wai,  young  feller!"  exclaimed  the  lightkeeper, 
"what  brings  you  over  here  from  Amperly?  Ain't 
got  your  lady  friend  with  ye,  eh?" 

"If  you  mean  Lorna,  I  have  not.  She  has  gone 
to  New  York  on  a  visit,  I  understand.  But  Uncle 
Henry  made  me  come  over  here  and  arrange  for  one 
of  Tadman's  bungalows.  He  won't  hear  to  our  go 
ing  anywhere  else  for  the  summer." 

"Which  don't  please  you  none,  I  can  see,"  com 
mented  Tobias.  "Which  one  of  them  bungalows 
are  you  going  to  have  ?" 

"I  had  to  take  the  one  right  next  to  the  Nicholet 
house,"  said  the  disgruntled  young  man.  "That 


62  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

was  the  only  one  left — it  is  so  late  in  the  renting 
season.  I  was  hoping  to  get  Uncle  Henry  to  agree 
to  a  change  for  one  summer,  at  least.  But  nothing 
doing!" 

"I  see,"  observed  Tobias,  grinning  privately. 

"Uncle  Henry  is  all  wrapped  up  in  a  new  inven 
tion.  He  wants  to  be  where  it  is  quiet.  The  good 
ness  knows  it's  quiet  enough  at  Clay  Head." 

"I  cal'late.  Come  over  to  the  light,  Ralphie,  and 
have  a  mess  of  Heppy's  fishballs." 

"Well,  I  might  drive  you  home  just  as  well  as 
not,"  the  young  fellow  agreed,  smiling. 

"You're  a  re'l  bright  boy,  Ralphie,  even  if  you 
can't  appreciate  Lorny  Nicholet." 

"Now,  stop  that,  Tobias  Bassett!"  exclaimed  his 
young  friend,  exasperated,  "or  I'll  surely  overturn 
you  in  the  ditch,"  and  he  threw  in  his  clutch  with  a 
vicious  jerk  as  the  engine  began  to  purr. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  NEWCOMER 

TOBIAS  postponed  the  telling  of  the  wonderful 
news  to  Miss  Heppy  until  after  supper  and  after 
Ralph  Endicott  had  wheeled  away  from  the  Twin 
Rocks  Light  in  his  car.  She  had  crowded  down  the 
question  until  then;  but  it  finally  came  out  with  a 
pop. 

"Who  did  Uncle  Jethro  leave  his  money  to, 
Tobias?"  she  demanded,  as  he  turned  away  from 
closing  the  door. 

"To  me  an'  you,  Heppy — pretty  near  every  last 
cent  of  it." 

"Now,  stop  your  f unnin' !" 

"Ain't  funning.  It  is  the  truth,"  her  brother 
said.  "Six  thousarid  dollars,  nearabout.  And  if 
you'd  seen  Icivilly  Potts's  face !"  he  chuckled. 

"For  love's  sake !"  gasped  Miss  Heppy.  "It  can't 
be!" 

"It  can  be,  for  it  is." 

"Why,  Tobias,  we're  rich !" 

"I  cal'late." 

"I — I  never  would  have  believed  it!"  exclaimed 
63 


64  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

his  sister,  and  sinking  into  her  chair  she  threw  her 
apron  over  her  head  and  began  to  sob  aloud. 

"Oh,  sugar!  what  you  cryin'  for?"  Tobias  de 
manded.  "  'Cause  Icivilly  and  them  others  didn't 
get  Uncle  Jethro's  money?  Have  some  sense,  do! 
This  ain't  no  time  for  weeping.  Just  think  of  what 
you  can  do  with  three  thousand  dollars." 

"You  just  said  six  thousand!"  ejaculated  Miss 
Heppy,  hastily  reappearing  above  the  hem  of  her 
apron.  "Where's  half  of  it  gone?" 

"Oh,  you're  to  get  half  and  me  half.  What  you 
going  to  do  with  your  three  thousand,  Heppy  ?" 

"Just  what  you  will  do  with  yours,  Tobias  Bas- 
sett!"  she  exclaimed.  "Put  it  into  the  Clinkerport 
Bank  to  our  joint  account.  We  got  'most  two  thou 
sand  there  now.  We'll  have  eight  thousand  against 
the  time  when  we  can't  work  no  more  and  will  need 
it." 

"Oh,  sugar !"  muttered  her  brother.  "I  might  ha' 
knowed  it.  Your  idea  of  a  pleasure  spree  always 
was  going  to  the  bank  to  make  another  ten  dollar 
deposit." 

"Now,  Tobias,"  she  said  with  gravity,  "don't  you 
let  no  foolish,  spendthrift  idees  get  a  holt  on  your 
mind.  I  won't  hear  to  'em.  You  never  would  have 
had  a  penny  in  the  bank  if  it  hadn't  been  for  me." 

"That's  the  truth,"  sighed  Tobias.  "You  got  me 
so  that  every  time  a  quarter  comes  my  way  the  dove 
of  peace  on  it  screams  for  mercy.  Yessir!  I'm 


A  Newcomer  65 

getting  to  be  a  reg'lar  miser,  'long  o'  you,  Heppy." 

The  lightkeeper  and  his  sister  fully  understood 
and  appreciated  each  other'sj  virtues.  That  Tobias 
was  generous  to  a  fault  and  that  Hephzibah's  saving 
disposition  had  long  since  warded  him  from  finan 
cial  wreck,  they  both  were  well  aware.  Tobias  publicly 
scorned,  however,  to  acknowledge  this  latter  fact. 

"I  certainly  shall  hate  to  see  you  turn  the  key  oni 
every  dollar  of  that  money,  Heppy,"  he  complained, 
preparing  to  mount  to  the  lamp  to  see  that  all  was 
right  up  there.  "We  ain't  never  cut  a  dash  in  our 
lives.  I  certainly  should  like  to  make  a  splurge  for 
once." 

"You'd  fly  right  in  the  face  of  Providence  if  I 
wasn't  here  to  hold  you  back,"  declared  his  sister. 
"Experience  can't  teach  you  nothing." 

"Oh,  sugar!  I  know  I've  always  spent  my  pay 
check  like  ducks  and  drakes,"  he  chuckled.  "Wai, 
leave  it  to  you,  Heppy,  and  Uncle  Jethro's  money 
won't  get  much  exercise,  for  a  fact." 

When  he  came  down  from  the  lamp  he  announced 
a  change  in  the  weather.  The  wind  began  to  whine 
around  the  tall  staff  and  rain  squalls  drifted  across 
the  sullenly  heaving  sea  outside  the  Twin  Rocks. 
The  night  dissolved  into  a  windy  and  tumultuous 
morning,  and  the  fishing  fleet  remained  inside  the 
capes. 

Tobias  went  aloft  after  breakfast  to  clean  and 
fill  the  lamp  before  taking  his  usual  morning  nap. 


66  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

To  the  eastward  rode  a  dun-colored  object  that  at 
first  could  scarcely  be  .made  out,  even  by  his  keen 
eyes. 

"It's  a  craft  of  some  kind — sure  is !"  he  muttered. 
"But  whether  it's  turned  bottom  up,  or  is  one  o' 
them  there  motor-boats,  decked  over  for'ard  and 
without  no  mast — Hi!  There's  a  mast  of  a  kind, 
and  with  a  pennant  to  it,  or  something.  Mebbe  'tis 
the  feller's  shirt." 

That  the  motor  craft  was  in  some  trouble  the 
lightkeeper  was  confident.  The  heavy  seas  buffeted 
it  without  mercy.  He  saw  that  the  master  of  the 
craft  could  not  keep  steerageway  upon  it. 

"He'll  be  swamped,  first  thing  he  knows,"  mut 
tered  the  anxious  lightkeeper.  "Yep!  he's  put  up 
some  kind  of  a  flag  for  help.  But,  sugar!  nobody 
won't  see  him  from  inside  the  harbor — an'  there 
ain't  another  livin'  craft  upon  the  sea." 

Tobias  hurried  down  from  the  lamp  gallery.  The 
cove  between  the  light  and  the  Clay  Head  was  empty 
of  all  craft  so  early  in  the  season.  In  fact,  the  only 
boats  in  sight  were  his  own  sloop,  still  high  and  dry 
upon  the  sands  at  the  base  of  the  lighthouse,  and 
the  heavy  dory  from  which  he  trolled  for  rock-fish 
as  he  chanced  to  have  time  on  the  outer  edge  of  the 
reefs. 

He  flung  a  word  to  Heppy,  and  she  ran  out  and 
helped  him  launch  the  dory. 

"You  have  a  care,  Tobias,"  she  cried  after  him 


A  Newcomer  67 

as  he  settled  the  oars  between  the  thole-pins.  "Re 
member  you  ain't  so  young  as  you  used  to  be." 

"Oh,  sugar !"  he  returned,  "I  ain't  likely  to  forget 
it  as  long  as  your  tongue  can  wag,  Heppy." 

The  heaving  gray  waves  roared  over  the  rocks  in 
great  bursts  of  foam.  The  tiny,  sheltered  bight 
between  the  reefs  had  offered  a  more  or  less  quiet 
launching  for  the  dory,  but  the  lightkeeper  was  soon 
in  the  midst  of  flying  spume,  his  craft  tossed  and 
buffeted  by  the  broken  water  that  eddied  off  the 
points  of  the  reef. 

He  drove  clear  of  this  in  a  few  moments  and 
pushed  out  to  sea.  Rising  on  a  "seventh  wave" — a 
particularly  big  one — Tobias  glanced  over  his  shoul 
der.  The  wallowing  motor-boat  was  still  right  side 
up.  There  seemed  to  be  but  one  person  in  it.  The 
pennant  whipped  from  the  short  staff  in  the  stern 
where  the  figure  of  the  man  was  likewise  to  be  dis 
tinguished. 

"She's  broken  down  complete,"  muttered  the  old 
lightkeeper,  "and  he's  keeping  her  head  to  it  with 
an  oar." 

He  settled  himself  for  the  long  and  arduous  pull 
before  him.  In  his  youth  he  had  many  times  man 
aged  a  dory — sometimes  laden  with  fish  from  the 
trawl-lines — in  a  worse  sea  than  this.  Tough  in 
fibre  as  the  ash  oar  he  drove,  was  Tobias  Bassett. 
He  did  not  overlook  the  possible  peril  in  this  trip  to 


68  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

the  unmanageable  motor-boat,  but  he  had  taken  just 
such  chances  often  and  again. 

Spoondrift,  dashed  from  the  caps  of  the  waves, 
drenched  him.  When  he  turned  his  head  now  and 
again  to  make  sure  of  his  course,  this  spray  spat 
viciously  in  his  face.  Little  whirlwinds  swooped 
down  upon  the  sea  and  turned  certain  areas  of  it 
into  boiling  cauldrons  of  yellow  foam. 

"Looks  like  a  caliker  cat  in  a  fit,"  was  Tobias's 
comment  on  one  occasion. 

But  these  squalls  were  for  the  most  part  ignored 
by  the  lightkeeper.  They  were  unpleasant  visita 
tions,  but  he  knew  the  dory  could  weather  them. 

He  pushed  on  unfalteringly.  Glancing  from  time 
to  time  over  his  shoulder,  Tobias  saw  that  the  occu 
pant  of  the  stalled  motor-boat  had  sunk  down  in  her 
cockpit.  He  seemed  to  have  lost  his  steering  oar, 
and  the  craft  was  being  tossed  whithersoever  the 
sea  would. 

"The  poor  fish!"  growled  Tobias.  "He's  likely 
to  find  a  watery  grave  after  all.  Must  be  something 
the  matter  with  him." 

As  the  dory  drew  nearer  the  lightkeeper  saw  a 
pallid  face  staring  at  him  over  the  gunnel  of  the 
motor-boat.  The  boat  had  shipped  considerable 
water  and  was  wallowing  deep  in  the  sea;  but  the 
man  seemed  unable  even  to  bail  out. 

"Crippled — must  be,"  decided  the  rescuer,  at  last. 
"I'd  better  get  to  him  soon,  or  he'll  lose  all  holts." 


A  Newcomer  69 

Despite  the  boisterous  seas  the  lightkeeper  brought 
his  dory  skilfully  alongside  the  tossing  motor-boat. 
The  wan  face  of  the  young  fellow  in  it  advertised 
his  woe. 

"What's  the  matter  with  ye  ?"  bawled  Tobias.      , 

"I've  hurt  my  foot!!'  replied  the  man.  "I  guess 
I've  sprained  it." 

"Oh,  sugar !  That  might  ha'  kept  ye  from  walk 
ing  ashore.  But  what's  the  matter  with  your  boat  ?" 

"The  engine  won't  run,  and  the  steering-gear  is 
fouled.  I  haven't  been  able  to  do  a  thing  with  it 
since  daybreak." 

"Hard  luck!"  returned  Tobias.  "Better  come 
aboard  here.  Can  ye  make  it  alone?" 

"Can't  you  tow  me?  I  don't  want  to  lose  my 
boat.  It  cost  a  lot  of  money." 

"Likely.  But  I  ain't  no  sea-going  towboat,"  said 
the  lightkeeper.  "If  I  undertook  to  try  to  tow  your 
boat,  we'd  bring  up  about  to  the  Bahamas.  You'lJ 
have  to  kiss  it  good-bye,  I  cal'late." 

"I'll  pay  you  well,"  cried  the  other. 

"Can't  be  did,"  said  Tobias  confidently.  "Now, 
then,  when  I  throw  her  to  ye,  be  ready  to  crawl  over 
the  gunnels.  We  ain't  got  no  time  to  jabber.  Stand 
by!" 

Seeing  that  the  old  man  was  firm  in  his  intention, 
the  castaway  prepared  awkwardly  to  make  the  ex 
change.  He  was  doused  between  the  two  boats,  but 
Tobias  Bassett's  strong  hand  helped  him  inboard, 


70  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

or  a  tragedy  might  have  been  enacted.  The  cast 
away  was  a  man  in  the  early  twenties,  and  not  at 
all  robust  looking.  Nor  did  his  countenance  very 
favorably  impress  the  rescuer. 

"Still,  ye  can't  scurcely  judge  the  good  points  of 
a  drowned  rat,"  Tobias  considered,  as  the  man  he 
had  rescued  squatted  in  the  stern  of  the  dory,  nurs 
ing  his  right  foot  and  groaning. 

"Tell  me  all  about  it,"  the  rescuer  suggested. 
"How  did  it  happen?" 

"I  left  Nantucket  yesterday  noon,  going  to  Bos 
ton." 

"All  the  weather-wise  folks  on  Nantucket  must 
be  dead,  eh?  Or  didn't  nobody  tell  ye  to  take  the 
inside  passage?" 

"Well,  I  thought  I  could  make  it  outside  before 
it  blew  really  hard.  And  I  could  have  done  so,  only 
for  that  engine." 

"I  see." 

"Then  I  fell  and  twisted  my  foot.  It's  swollen, 
you  see.  Can't  put  my  weight  on  it." 

"Too  bad,"  grunted  the  lightkeeper  between 
strokes.  "And  you  been  battin'  off  and  on  here  all 
night?" 

"Pretty  near." 

"Lucky  I  spied  ye.  it's  going  to  blow  harder 
before  it  gets  through.  You  didn't  stand  much 
chance  of  being  picked  up  by  any  other  craft,  so  far 
inshore." 


A  Newcomer  71 

"I  hate  to  lose  my  boat,"  complained  the  cast 
away. 

"You  like  to  have  lost  your  life,  young  feller," 
said  Tobias,  seriously.  "You  can  get  another  motor- 
boat  easier.  What's  your  name  ?" 

"Conway  Degger.    I  belong  in  Boston." 

"Do  ye,  now  ?    Come  o'  rich  folks,  I  cal'late  ?" 

"Not  rich  enough  to  throw  away  a  motor-boat 
like  that." 

"Oh,  sugar!  I  s'pose  not.  If  the  wind  shifts  she 
may  come  ashore." 

"She'll  be  smashed  up." 

"Mebbe  not  past  mending,"  said  Tobias,  trying 
to  be  comforting.  "Anyhow,  you  be  glad,  young 
feller,  that  ye  got  out  of  it  as  slick  as  ye  did." 

"I  don't  want  you  to  think  I'm  ungrateful," 
groaned  Degger,  caressing  his  bruised  foot.  "But 
motor-boats  don't  grow  on  bushes." 

"Never  thought  they  did.  Or  I  should  try  if  one 
o'  them  bushes  would  grow  in  Heppy's  garden," 
chuckled  the  lightkeeper. 

It  was  a  long  and  hard  pull  to  make  the  light 
house  landing.  It  was  near  noon,  and  Tobias  had 
rowed  steadily  for  four  hours,  when  the  dory 
grounded  upon  the  sands  with  the  surf  roaring  over 
the  reefs  between  which  he  had  skilfully  steered. 

"Wai,  we  made  it,  didn't  we?"  sighed  the  light- 
keeper,  with  a  measure  of  sarcasm  quite  lost  upon 


72  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Mr.  Dagger.  "One  spell  I  didn't  know  as  we  would 
— you  bein'  crippled  and  helpless  like  you  be." 

"I  am  a  thousand  times  obliged  to  you,  Skipper," 
said  Degger,  quite  warmly,  as  he  cautiously  stood 
on  one  foot  like  a  sandhill  crane.  "I  don't  know 
how  to  thank  you." 

"No,  I  see  ye  don't,"  observed  Tobias.  "But 
ne'er  mind.  I  got  an  attic  full  of  'thank-yous.' 
Don't  try  to  give  me  no  more.  Come  up  to  the 
light  and  have  dinner.  I  smell  fish  chowder,  and 
I  do  think  my  Sister  Heppy  can  make  fish  chowder 
'bout  right." 

Conway  Degger  evidently  agreed  with  the  light- 
keeper  regarding  Miss  Heppy's  cooking.  After 
Tobias  had  aided  the  cripple  to  hop  up  the  strand 
and  to  the  light,  and  had  introduced  him  to  Miss 
Heppy,  Degger  proceeded  to  make  himself-  quite  at 
home.  Miss  Heppy  plodded  up  the  spiral  stairway 
to  the  lamp  room  after  dinner  to  consult  with  her 
brother. 

"He  wants  I  should  take  him  to  board  for  a 
spell,"  she  said.  "He  seems  a  civil  spoken  sort  of 
boy.  I  s'pose  we  could  put  him  in  the  spare  room, 
now  that  you've  finally  got  new  winder-sashes  for 
it." 

"Wai,  I  s'pose  you  could." 

"He  wants  to  stay  till  his  foot  gets  better.  It's 
as  black  as  your  hat.  I  been  bandaging  it." 


A  Newcomer  73 

"Did  he  want  a  bandage  put  on  his  pocketbook, 
too?" 

"Now,  Tobias!  He's  going  to  pay  me  four  dol 
lars." 

"For  the  bandage?" 

"A  week.    For  his  board." 

"That's  mighty  good " 

"Why " 

"For  him,"  finished  the  lightkeeper.  "But  it's 
your  business,  Heppy,  not  mine.  Seein's  we  are 
only  going  to  have  'bout  eight  thousand  dollars  in 
the  bank,  I  presume  you'd  better  take  boarders  to 
help  out." 

"Now,  Tobias  Bassett!  it  behooves  us  to  make 
money  while  we  may.  We  ain't  gettin'  any  young 
er." 

"I  agree  with  you,"  said  her  brother.  "And  I 
don't  believe  we'll  be  wickedly  overburdened  with 
all  the  money  you  make  out  of  this  Degger  feller." 

For  Tobias  had  judged  fairly  accurately  that 
young  man's  idiosyncrasies.  There  was  nothing  of 
the  spendthrift  about  Mr.  Con  way  Degger. 


CHAPTER  VIII  r 

PHILOSOPHY  AND  OTHER  THINGS 

TOBIAS  BASSETT  was  a  social  soul  and  the 
"boarder,"  as  he  insisted  upon  calling  the  young 
man  he  had  rescued  from  the  motor-boat,  was  not 
tongue-tied.  Get  Degger  set  on  a  course,  as  Tobias 
termed  it,  relating  to  his  own  exploits,  and  the 
young  fellow  became  more  than  voluble. 

The  lightkeeper  and  Miss  Heppy  certainly  were 
surprised  to  learn  that  their  visitor  was  acquainted 
with  the  Nicholets. 

"You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  that  is  the  Nicho 
lets'  summer  home  up  on  that  bluff?  That  first  one 
yonder  ?"  said  the  young  man. 

"That's  it,"  replied  Tobias,  sitting  on  the  bench 
beside  the  lighthouse  door  to  smoke  an  after-supper 
pipe.  "I  see  the  storm  shutters  are  down.  They'll 
be  coming  soon,  I  cal'late." 

"And  Miss  Lorna  comes  here  every  summer?  A 
charming  girl." 

Tobias  looked  at  him  fixedly. 

"I  don't  suppose  you'd  be  knowing  Ralph  Endi- 
cott?  The  Endicotts  will  occupy  the  house  next  to 
the  Nicholets." 

74 


Philosophy  and  Other  Things          75 

"The  Endicotts  of  Amperly  ?"  . 

"Them's  the  ones.  Ralph  is  the  one  I  mean. 
Feller  'bout  your  age,  mebbe." 

"If  it  is  the  Ralph  Endicott  I  know,"  said  Deg- 
ger,  the  expression  of  his  face  changing,  "he  and 
I  were  at  Harvard  together." 

"You  don't  say!"  Tobias's  eyes  twinkled.  The 
reason  for  the  familiar  sound  of  the  boarder's  name 
was  suddenly  explained.  This  was  the  "Conny 
Degger"  Ralph  had  spoken  of,  for  whose  society 
Lorna  had  once  shown  a  penchant.  "I  cal'late  you 
know  Ralph  pretty  well,  then?"  insinuated  the  light- 
keeper. 

"Oh,  I  was  never  chummy  with  Ralph  Endicott," 
Degger  observed.  "He  and  I  were  scarcely  in  the 
same  set."  Which  was  strictly  true.  Nobody  could 
doubt  it.  Then  he  verged  on  rather  thin  ice :  "You 
see,  Ralph's  kind  are  high-flyers."  He  dropped  his 
voice  a  notch  and  glanced  around  to  make  sure 
that  Miss  Heppy  was" not  within  hearing.  "Fellows 
like  Ralph  Endicott  don't  go  to  college  altogether  to 
study." 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,"  admitted  Tobias,  placid 
ly  smoking,  "that  some  of  'em  go  mostly  to  learn 
about  the  breeds  o'  bulldogs — both  pipes  and  canine. 
And  they  study  how  to  play  cards,  and  to  dress  as 
fancy  as  a  nigger  minstrel.  I've  seen  some  of  that 
kind.  But  Ralph " 

"No.    He  did  not  run  to  those  foibles,  I  believe. 


76  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

But  there  was  a  girl — well,  you  know  how  it  is  with 
some  fellows,  Skipper.  Every  pretty  face  attracts 
them,  and  there  are  plenty  of  girls  of  light  ideas  in 
every  college  town.  Cambridge  is  no  exception." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  ejaculated  the  lightkeeper.  "I 
wouldn't  think  it  of  Ralph." 

"Sly  boy!"  chuckled  Conny  Degger  grinning. 
"Guess  his  folks  never  knew  much  about  it.  They 
are  straight-laced,  I  fancy.  But  he  was  seen  a  good 
deal  with  Cora  Devine — and  she  was  not  all  she 
should  be." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  exclaimed  Tobias  again.  "Maybe 
'twas  only  a  boy  and  girl  flirtation." 

"She  was  no  innocent  kid.  Believe  me,  Skipper, 
that  Devine  girl  knew  her  way  about.  Why,  I  was 
told  she'd  been  trooping  with  a  burlesque  show. 
Ralph  Endicott  made  a  perfect  jack  of  himself  over 
her.  It  was  even  rumored  that  they  ran  off  and 
were  married  once  when  he  was  half-stewed." 

Tobias  jumped  on  the  bench  and  uttered  a  startled 
exclamation. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Skipper?" 

"Must  o'  been  one  of  them  pesky  sandfleas,"  mut 
tered  the  lightkeeper.  "Wai,  go  on  with  your  tale 
o'  crime." 

"Ha!  Ha!  No  crime  about  it.  Just  Endicott's 
foolishness.  If  he  did  marry  her,  I'm  sorry  for 
him.  She'll  be  bobbing  up  to  confront  him  later. 


Philosophy  and  Other  Things          77 

Such  girls  always  do.  They  are  expensive  trim 
mings  to  a  fellow's  college  career." 

"I  cal'late."  agreed  Tobias,  more  calmly. 

But  later  he  sounded  Heppy  on  a  topic  which  he 
had  not  touched  upon  since  back  in  the  late  winter 
when  Lorna  and  Ralph  had  been  stormbound  at  the 
light. 

"Didn't  Lorny  say  something  to  you  about  Ralph 
paying  'tentions  to  some  gal  at  college?  Wasn't 
she  some  worked  up  about  it?" 

"For  love's  sake,  Tobias,  she  never  spoke  as 
though  she'd  feel  jealous  any  if  Ralph  Endicott  had 
forty  girls!  I  should  say  not!  She  did  mention 
that  Ralph  had  some  love  affair  when  he  was  at 
school.  But  she  called  it  puppy  love,"  concluded 
Miss  Heppy,  with  a  sniff. 

"Humph !  Sort  o'  scorned  it,  did  she  ?  It  didn't 
seem  to  worry  her  none  ?" 

"Worry  her?  I  should  say  not!  But  I  guess 
'twas  only  gossip  at  that.  I  don't  believe  Ralph 
Endicott  is  the  sort  of  a  boy  to  play  fast  and  loose 
with  any  girl." 

"Does  seem  as  though  we  feel  about  alike  on  that 
score,  Heppy,"  reflected  her  brother.  "Ralph,  it 
strikes  me,  is  purt'  sound  timber.  But  I  wonder, 
now,  where  Lorna  Nicholet  got  her  information 
about  Ralph's  chasing  around  after  that  chorus  gal  ? 
Does  seem  as  though  such  a  story  might  be  one  o' 


78  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

the  things  that  makes  Lorna  so  determined  to  cut 
Ralph  adrift.  Oh,  sugar!" 

But  these  final  reflections  of  the  lightkeeper  were 
inaudible.  He  had  by  no  means  lost  interest  in  his 
matchmaking  intrigue  regarding  the  two  young  peo 
ple  who  he  was  convinced  were  "jest  about  made 
for  each  other." 

His  scheme — if  scheme  he  had — had  been  in 
abeyance  all  these  weeks.  Now  that  the  families  of 
the  young  people  were  about  to  take  up  their  resi 
dence  on  the  Clay  Head,  he  proposed  to  enter  upon 
a  more  active  campaign  for  what  he  believed  to  be 
the  happiness  of  all  concerned. 

Not  alone  was  Miss  Heppy  aware  of  the  long- 
past  bond  of  affection  between  Miss  Ida  Nicholet 
and  Ralph's  Uncle  Henry.  Tobias  Bassett  had  been 
just  as  observant  as  his  sister — or  anybody  else. 

Like  others,  he  had  wondered  twenty  years  be 
fore  why  the  then  young  Professor  Endicott  had 
not  pursued  with  more  vigor  the  charming,  if  inde 
pendent,  Ida  Nicholet,  and  made  her  his  bride. 
There  was  a  romance  nipped  in  the  bud  which 
Tobias  always  felt  he  might  have  mended — "if  he'd 
put  his  mind  to  it." 

In  any  case  he  determined  not  to  see  the  ship  of 
Ralph  and  Lorna's  happiness  cast  on  the  rocks  if 
he  could  help  it.  He  felt  that  it  might  be  within 
his  power  to  avert  such  disaster.  The  strategic 


Philosophy  and  Other  Things          79 

yeast  of  the  true  matchmaker  began  to  stir  within 
him. 

"Miss  Ida,"  as  everybody  called  Lorna's  assertive 
aunt,  could  not  be  long  in  any  place  without  making 
her  presence  felt.  Her  original  and  independent 
character  never  failed  to  make  its  impress  upon  all 
domestic,  as  well  as  other,  affairs.  The  Nicholet 
menage  was  run  like  clockwork.  Miss  Ida  was  the 
clock.  Everything  at  the  big  house  on  Clay  Head 
was  soon  working  smoothly,  and  Miss  Ida  could 
look  about. 

She  was  a  tall,  free-striding,  graceful  woman 
without  a  gray  thread  in  her  abundant  dark  hair. 
She  piled  that  hair  low  at  the  back  of  her  head,  and 
her  neck  and  throat  were  like  milk,  and  flawless. 

When  she  came  across  the  barrens  under  her  rose- 
tinted  parasol  to  see  Miss  Heppy  at  the  Light,  her 
plain  morning  dress  was  arranged  as  carefully  as  a 
ball  gown  would  be  on  another  woman.  In  addi 
tion,  her  pleasant  eyes  and  round,  firm  chin,  to 
gether  with  her  Junoesque  figure,  made  her  appear 
ance  most  attractive. 

"Well,  Heppy,  how  do  you  do?"  she  asked,  her 
voice  mellow  and  full.  "How  has  the  winter  gone 
with  you?" 

'  'Bout  the  same  as  usual,  Miss  Ida,"  the  light- 
keeper's  sister  replied.  "You  be  a  pretty  sight. 
None  o'  the  young  ones  can  put  anything  over  you, 


8o  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Miss  Ida.  You  ain't  got  a  wrinkle  or  a  fleck  of 
gray  in  your  head." 

Miss  Ida  laughed.  "I'm  forty-two.  I'm  frank  to 
admit  it.  Why  shouldn't  a  woman  be  well  pre 
served  and  in  good  health  at  my  age  if  she  has  never 
made  herself  a  slave  to  some  man?" 

"For  love's  sake !  As  for  that,  I  ain't  never  been 
married.  But  look  at  my  wrinkles!" 

"Those  are  creases,  not  wrinkles,  in  your  case, 
Heppy,"  laughed  the  visitor.  "You  are  getting  too 
fat.  And  you  have  been  practically  a  slave  for 
Tobias." 

"Sure  she  has,"  agreed  the  lightkeeper  grinning. 
"I've  been  thinking  of  putting  a  nose-ring  on  her. 
She's  abused,  all  right." 

"You  hush,  Tobias!  I  ain't  slaved  for  nobody 
but  him,  Miss  Ida,"  declared  Hephzibah  warmly. 
"While  you,  Miss  Ida,  have  shouldered  the  responsi 
bility  for  your  brother  and  all  his  family.  If  you'd 
married,"  added  the  longshore  woman  wisely,  "like 
enough  you  wouldn't  have  had  nowhere  near  so  big 
a  family  to  care  for." 

"I  wonder?"  laughed  the  other  woman.  Yet  her 
expressive  countenance  became  immediately  serious. 
"My  family  is  pretty  well  grown  now,  HeJ>py.  I 
am  sure  even  Lorna  is  old  enough  to  make  a  nest 
for  herself.  She  has  been  out  two  years." 

"Out  o'  what?"  Tobias  asked,  taking  the  pipe 
from  his  mouth  and  staring.  "Looks  to  me  as 


Philosophy  and  Other  Things          81 

though  she  was  well  supplied  with  most  everything 
a  young  gal  ought  to  have,  an'  wasn't  out  o'  noth 
ing." 

"I  mean  she  has  been  in  society  two  years." 

"Oh,  sugar !  That's  a  case,  is  it,  of  when  you're 
out,  you're  in?"  chuckled  the  lightkeeper.  "I  give 
it  as  my  opinion  that  the  only  thing  Lorny  lacks  is 
a  good  husband." 

Miss  Ida  flushed  softly.  "I  hope  she  will  see  the 
advisability  of  choosing  wisely  in  that  matter,"  the 
aunt  said,  speaking  intimately  to  these  two  old 
friends,  at  the  expression  of  whose  interest  in  her 
family  affairs  she  was  far  too  sensible  to  take  of 
fence. 

"Yes,"  she  pursued.  "You  know  what  hopes  her 
father  and  I  have  for  her.  An  eminently  fitting 
alliance.  And  Ralph  is  a  manly  fellow.  It  does 
seem  as  though  those  two  were  quite  made  for  each 
other." 

"Humph!  Yes.  'Twould  seem  so,"  muttered 
Tobias.  "But  it  does  appear  sometimes  as  though 
the  very  things  that  ought  to  be  don't  somehow  come 
around  to  happen." 

"You  are  a  philosopher,  Tobias." 

"Dunno  as  that's  a  compliment,  Miss  Ida,"  re 
joined  the  lightkeeper,  his  eyes  twinkling.  "I  got 
all  my  wits  about  me  yet,  and  most  of  them  philoso 
phers  you  hear  tell  about  ain't.  They  get  on  some 
hobby  and  ride  it  to  death.  And  a  man  ain't  really 


82  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

broad-minded  unless  he  can  see  both  sides  to  a  ques 
tion. 

"Now,  takin'  the  chances  for  and  against  your 
Lorna  and  Ralph  Endicott  marryin'.  What  would 
you  say,  Miss  Ida,  was  the  one  best  bet  ?" 

He  looked  up  at  her  shrewdly,  holding  his  pipe 
with  that  familiar  gesture  of  his.  Miss  Ida's  gravity 
grew  more  profound. 

"I  believe  you  and  Heppy  must  know  that  of  late 
my  niece  and  Ralph  have  seemed  to  fret  one  an 
other?"  she  queried. 

"They  give  themselves  away  some  when  they 
stopped  over  here  that  time  they  got  stalled  in 
Ralph's  car,"  admitted  Tobias.  "Warn't  it  jest  a 
leetlespat?" 

"I  am  afraid  not.  They  have  not  seemed  the 
same  since.  And  I  am  afraid  it  is  Lorna's  fault," 
sighed  Miss  Ida.'  "She  is  so  hot-tempered.  I  have 
warned  her.  The  families  have  never  considered 
any  other  possible  outcome  but  an  alliance  between 
Lorna  and  Ralph.  I  have  told  her  so." 

"I  cal'late  you  have,"  murmured  Tobias  softly, 
pulling  on  his  pipe  again. 

"When  she  returns  from  New  York — as  she  will 
in  a  day  or  two — I  shall  put  the  matter  to  her  very 
strongly.  If  you  and  Heppy  have  noticed  their 
drifting  asunder,  other  people  must  have  noticed  it 
too.  The  Nicholets  would  be  utterly  disgraced  if  it 
were  said  that  Ralph  Endicott — er — dropped  Lorna. 


•Philosophy  and  Other  Things  83 

And  if  he  should,  I  fear  it  will  be  my  niece's  own 
fault." 

When  she  was  gone  Tobias  snorted   suddenly. 

"Oh,  sugar!"  he  said.  "If  I  scorch  'em  a  mite 
graced,  I  want  to  know,  when  Miss  Ida's  love  af 
fair  with  Professor  Endicott  busted  up?  Seems  to 
me  that  leetle  gal,  Lorny,  is  going  to  be  put  upon 
by  her  folks.  That  won't  do." 

"Now,  do  try  to  mind  your  own  business,  To 
bias,"  advised  his  sister,  comfortably  rocking.  "I 
know  it  will  be  hard  for  you  to  do  so.  But  you'll 
burn  your  fingers,  like  enough,  if  you  don't." 

The  lightkeeper  spread  out  his  gnarled,  work- 
blunted  fingers  to  observe  them  reflectively. 

"Oh,  sugar!"  he  said.  "If  I  scorch  'em  a  mite 
helping  that  leetle  gal  and  Ralph  Endicott  out  o' 
their  muss,  what's  the  odds,  Heppy?  You  know, 
we're;  put  here  to  help  each  other." 

"That  is  what  most  folks  say  that  have  an  itch 
for  minding  other  people's  business.  Now,  you  have 
a  care  what  you  do,  Tobias  Bassett." 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  DROP  OF  WORMWOOD 

WHEN  Lorna  Nicholet  first  appeared  at  the  Twin 
Rocks  Light  after  arriving  at  her  summer  home, 
she  gave  no  evidence  of  needing  the  lightkeeper's — 
or  any  other  person's — good  offices.  She  was  her 
usual  brisk,  contented  and  fun-loving  self. 

Conway  Degger  chanced  to  be  present  when 
Lorna  came  to  the  Light.  Miss  Ida  had  not  seen 
the  young  man  when  she  had  called  on  Tobias  and 
Heppy. 

"What  a  surprise,  Mr.  Degger!"  the  girl  said, 
giving  him  a  warmly  welcoming  hand.  "I  had  no 
idea  you  were  in  this  locality." 

"I  am  a  waif  from  the  sea,  Miss  Nicholet,"  he 
told  her.  "You  ask  the  skipper,  here,  about  it.  I 
can  never  thank  him  enough.  And  Miss  Heppy, 
too,  who  has  so  kindly  taken  me  in  and  ministered 
to  my  well-being." 

"He  says  it  pretty,  don't  he  now?"  whispered 
Miss  Heppy  to  Tobias. 

"Pretty  is  as  pretty  does,"  muttered  the  light- 
keeper.-  "Somehow  them  fanciful  speeches  of  his'n 
don't  bait  much  trawl  with  me." 

84 


The  Drop  of  Wormwood  85 

But  Miss  Heppy  considered  Conny  Degger  quite 
worthy  of  approval.  Lorna  found  him  interesting, 
too.  Perhaps  the  very  fact  that  her  Aunt  Ida  had 
opposed  her  acquaintance  with  the  young  man 
caused  Lorna  to  be  the  more  contrary.  And,  really, 
Degger  betrayed  some  rather  attractive  traits. 

During  the  next  few  days  the  girl  and  the  boarder 
at  Twin  Rocks  Light  became  close  companions. 
They  went  fishing  together  in  Tobias's  dory.  They 
tramped  the  beach  as  far  as  the  Lower  Trillion  life- 
saving  station,  Degger's  sprained  foot  being  quite 
well  again.  And  the  young  man  appeared  regularly 
on  the  Clay  Head  bathing  beach  at  the  morning 
bathing  hour. 

Among  the  few  families  already  at  the  resort, 
who  made  up  a  little  social  world  of  their  own,  it 
soon  became  a  topic  of  conversation — this  compan 
ionship  of  Lorna  Nicholet  and  Conny  Degger.  Par 
ticularly  was  it  commented  upon,  because  for  so 
many  summers  the  girl  and  Ralph  Endicott  had  been 
such  close  chums. 

Although  the  Endicotts  had  already  arrived  at 
the  Clay  Head,  Ralph  did  not  at  once  put  in  an  ap 
pearance.  This  fact  perhaps  threw  Lorna  the  more 
into  Conny  Degger's  company.  Tongues  began  to 
wag. 

"I  should  say,"  squeaked  Amos  Pickering,  who 
was  a  very  busy  man  these  days  because  of  the 
influx  of  summer  visitors,  "that  Lorny  Nicholet  has 


86  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

got  another  feller.  That  long-laiged  Endicott  boy's 
always  been  tagging  her  other  summers.  Now  this 
here  boarder  you  got,  Tobias,  is  stickin'  to  her  like 
a  barnacle.  What  d'ye  think  it'll  amount  to?" 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,"  retorted  the  lightkeeper, 
pursing  his  lips,  "that  it  won't  add  none  to  your  bur 
dens,  Amos.  I  don't  see  no  weddin'  invitations  in 
the  offing  for  you  to  distribute." 

"She's  jest  a-flirtin',  is  she?" 

"Like  a  sandpiper,"  declared  Tobias.  "Keepin' 
her  hand  in  as  ye  might  say.  There  ain't  a  mite 
o'  harm  in  Lorny,  but  she's  got  to  have  some  amuse 
ment." 

He  was  nevertheless  glad  to  see  Ralph  arrive. 
The  lightkeeper  believed  that  Lorna  would  much 
better  have  her  old  friend  at  hand  to  compare  Deg- 
ger  with. 

Had  he  been  present  at  the  first  meeting  of  the 
trio,  Tobias  Bassett  might  have  experienced  some 
doubt  of  the  value  after  all  of  such  comparison. 
Lorna  greeted  Ralph  very  coolly.  She  and  Degger 
were  about  to  launch  the  lightkeeper's  dory  for  a 
fishing  trip  when  Ralph  came  striding  down  from 
the  Clay  Head. 

"  'Lo,  Ralph,"  was  the  girl's  careless  hail.  "Did 
you  put  the  bait-pail  in,  Mr.  Degger  ?'" 

"All  right,  Miss  Lorna.  It's  right  here.  How 
do,  Endicott  ?" 

"I  heard  you  were  here,  Degger,"  said  Ralph, 


The  Drop  of  Wormwood  87 

merely  nodding  to  Lorna.    "What's  running  now  ?" 

"Mostly  squeteague  and  fluke,"  replied  the  girl. 
"Occasionally  a  tautog  on  rocky  bottom.  No  snap 
pers  yet." 

"Nothing  worthy  of  Your  Majesty's  prowess," 
gibed  Degger.  "I  understand  you  are  a  real  fisher 
man,"  and  he  pushed  off  the  boat. 

Ralph's  gaze  narrowed  and  his  brow  clouded. 
He  sat  down  on  the  sand.  There  was  room  enough 
in  the  dory  for  a  third;  but  neither  of  them  had 
suggested  his  joining  them. 

Perhaps  Ralph's  attitude  was  not  exactly  that  of 
a  dog  in  the  manger.  But  it  did  trouble  him  to 
see  his  erstwhile  chum  so  friendly  with  Conny  Deg 
ger.  Not  that  he  knew  of  anything  actually  bad 
about  the  fellow.  Merely,  he  had  seemed  so  incon 
sequential  and,  at  times,  rather  vulgar. 

Ralph  was  quite  aware  that  some  men  are  one 
thing  to  their  masculine  friends  while  they  act  en 
tirely  differently  in  the  company  of  women.  Deg 
ger,  he  thought,  was  of  that  kind.  He  hated  to  see 
Lorna  "mixing  up,"  as  he  termed  it,  with  the  fellow. 

He  was  not  wise  enough — wise  in  women's  ways 
— to  hide  this  feeling  from  Lorna's  sharp  vision. 
She  flattered  herself  that  her  old  friend  was  dis 
playing  jealousy.  This  supposition  could  not  fail 
to  please  her.  Ralph  had  become  such  a  nuisance  in 
her  opinion,  that  she  was  determined  to  show  him 
that  she  could  easily  attract  other  men.  She  would 


88  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

flout  him  and  his  whole  family — as  well  as  her 
own — by  playing  about  with  Conny  Degger. 

"Ralph  thinks  that  he  is  the  only  man  who  ever 
pays  me  any  attention,"  Lorna  secretly  ruminated. 
"And  goodness  knows,  he  has  hung  around  so  close 
that  almost  everybody  else  has  been  driven  off.  Con 
ceited!  That  is  just  what  Ralph  Endicott  is.  Al 
ways  looking  over  a  tall  collar  at  the  rest  of  the 
world.  If  he  didn't  believe  that  Adam's  last  name 
was  Endicott  he  never  would  admit  relationship 
with  the  first  of  the  race !  Humph !" 

So  she  treated  Degger  particularly  nicely  on 
this  occasion.  She  overlooked  some  rather  crude 
things  about  the  young  man,  and  from  the  shore 
where  Ralph  lay  she  appeared  to  be  having  a  most 
delightful  time  with  her  fishing  partner. 

It  made  her  angry  to  see  how  Ralph  hung  around. 
She  delayed  coming  ashore  as  long  as  she  could, 
hoping  he  would  go  away.  She  did  not  want  a 
scene  with  him. 

Ralph,  however,  did  not  even  rise  from  his  re 
cumbent  position  when  the  fishing  party  beached 
the  dory  on  the  strand  between  the  out-thrust  reefs. 
Lorna  hurried  away,  and  Ralph  did  not  attempt  to 
join  her,  as  she  had  feared  he  would.  Instead,  he 
got  up  slowly  and  aided  Degger  draw  up  the  light- 
keeper's  dory. 

"Awf'ly  nice  girl,  that,"  said  Degger  boldly. 

"Yes." 


The  Drop  of  Wormwood  89 

"Good  sport,  too.  I  never  met  a  nicer  girl." 

"I  don't  believe  you  ever  did,"  said  the  other,  his 
level  gaze  boring  Degger  rather  unpleasantly. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!"  ejaculated  Degger,  with  sud 
den  warmth  and  a  sneer  on  his  lips.  "I've  known  a 
lot  of  girls " 

"But  not  of  her  kind,"  broke  in  Ralph.  "And 
don't  you  think  it!  Watch  your  step  with  Lorna." 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Endicott?"  snapped 
Degger.  "I  don't  have  to  take  orders  from  you." 

"Not  as  long  as  you  go  straight  you  don't,"  Ralph 
assured  him.  "But  we  all  think  too  much  of  Lorna 
Nicholet  around  her  to  see  anybody  try  to  mis 
behave  with  .her." 

"Oh— you " 

"I  know  a  few  things  about  you.  It's  none  of  my 
business  what  you  try  out  with  other  girls,"  Ralph 
hastily  added.  "But  you  be  mighty  careful  with 
Lorna." 

He  turned  on  his  heel  then  and  strode  away.  Deg 
ger  sneered  after  him. 

"Think's  he  is  the  Great  I  Am!"  he  muttered. 
"You'd  think  he  owned  the  girl.  And  putting  on 
his  airs  with  me !"  Degger's  scowl  grew  darker  as 
he  added :  "Guess  the  beggar  wants  me  to  pay  up. 
That  is  like  these  rich  fellows.  They  are  mighty 
free  offering  to  lend  you  money ;  but  they  make  you 
feel  the  obligation  forever  after." 

Now,  Conway  Degger  quite  wronged  Ralph  on 


90  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

this  point.  The  latter  had  entirely  forgotten  that 
Degger  was  in  his  debt  from  some  time  back  in  their 
college  days. 

Indeed,  Ralph  Endicott  was  never  one  to  trouble 
about  money,  for  he  never  remembered  putting  his 
hand  into  his  pocket  when  he  wanted  that  com 
modity  without  rinding  it.  His  family  had  been 
wealthy  for  generations.  Just  how  well-to-do  they 
were  in  the  present  generation  he  had  never  troubled 
to  ask.  Uncle  Henry  and  the  family  attorneys  at 
tended  to  all  that. 

It  did  seem  odd  that  just  at  this  time  the  money 
matters  of  other  people  should  begin  to  disturb 
Ralph  Endicott.  Not  that  he  bothered  his  head 
about  Conny  Degger's  affairs.  It  was  somebody 
entirely  different  of  whose  financial  difficulties  he 
was  unexpectedly  made  aware. 

Coming  up  from  the  shore  following  his  brief  con 
versation  with  Degger,  Ralph  found  the  old  light- 
keeper  mending  a  seine  outside  the  lighthouse  door. 

"Wai,  now,"  said  Tobias,  "ye  look  some  het  up. 
I  seen  ye  soaking  yourself  out  there  on  the  sand  in 
the  sun,  and  I  cal'lated  you'd  look  like  a  b'iled  lob 
ster  when  you  come  up.  And  you  do." 

Ralph  knew  that  it  was  an  angry  flush  Tobias  saw 
on  his  face.  He  grinned  ruefully. 

"More  than  the  sun  to  make  a  fellow's  blood  boil, 
Mr.  Bassett,  sometimes." 


The  Drop  of  Wormwood  91 

"Oh,  sugar !"  rejoined  the  lightkeeper.  "Ye  don't 
let  that  feller  bother  ye  none,  do  you,  Ralph  ?" 

"I  do  not  like  him  much,"  the  young  man  said 
stiffly. 

"You  mean  you  don't  like  him  to  be  fooling 
around  Lorny,  hey?"  said  Tobias,  his  head  shrewdly 
on  one  side. 

"It  is  none  of  my  business " 

"Course  it  is !  Course  it  is !"  exclaimed  the  light- 
keeper  vigorously.  "I've  just  about  sized  this  Deg- 
ger  feller  up,  I  cal'late.  His  folks  ain't  any  too  well 
off,  and  I  bet  he'll  never  get  round-shouldered  carry 
ing  his  money  around." 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  it,  Mr.  Bassett?"  de 
manded  Ralph,  rather  startled. 

"Why,  Lorny  can't  afford  to  waste  her  time  with 
a  feller  like  him,"  the  lightkeeper  declared  coolly. 
"She's  got  to  marry  somebody  with  money.  I  know 
by  the  way  Miss  Ida  was  talkin'  the  other  day  over 
here,  she  was  worried  about  Lorny  marrying." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Tobias  Bassett?"  ejaculated 
Ralph,  dropping  down  on  the  bench  beside  him. 

"Why,  I  cal'late  you  know  more  about  the  Nicho- 
lets'  affairs  than  I  do." 

"I  don't  understand  you  at  all,"  said  the  young 
man.  "Do  you  mean  to  say " 

"That  Lorny's  got  to  marry  money — yep!"  ex 
claimed  Tobias,  pursing  his  lips  and  nodding.  "It 
'ud  ease  matters  a  whole  lot  for  Miss  Ida  and 


92  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Lorny's  father  if  she  gets  a  rich  husband.  Why, 
Ralph!  I  s'posed  you  knowed  that." 

"I  never  dreamed  it!" 

"Cal'late  that  is  why  they  were  so  anxious  for 
you  and  her  to  make  a  match  of  it,"  pursued  the 
lightkeeper.  "O'  course,  she  don't  know  nothing 
about  it.  But  I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  a  rich 
husband  for  Lorny  is  going  to  take  a  great  burden 
off  the  shoulders  of  her  family." 

"You  amaze  me."    Ralph's  face  was  a  study. 

"So  ye  see,"  said  Tobias,  with  a  cheerfulness  that 
grated  on  Ralph's  nerves,  "this  Degger  feller,  un 
less  he's  got  more  money  than  he's  showed  any  sign 
of  having,  ain't  got  no  chance  with  Lorna.  Least 
ways,"  he  added,  "not  with  her  folks." 

"I — I  never  thought  of  it  before,"  said  Ralph 
reflectively,  "but  I  do  not  think  Degger  has  much 
money." 

"Then  he'd  better  be  shooed  away  from  the  vicin 
ity,  as  ye  might  say,"  the  matchmaker  said  vigor 
ously.  "For  if  you  air  bound  not  to  marry  her 
yourself,  Ralph,  no  use  her  fallin'  into  the  lap  of  a 
poor  man." 

"You  know  very  well  Lorna  wouldn't  marry  me, 
Tobias  Bassett!"  exclaimed  Ralph  angrily.  "You 
needn't  talk  as  though  /  were  at  fault." 

"Oh,  sugar !  I  don't  see  you  fallin'  over  your  own 
feet  none,  young  man,  to  make  her  marry  ye." 

"Don't  you  remember  how  she  talked  to  me  that 


The  Drop  of  Wormwood  93 

night  we  were  stormbound  here?  Didn't  she  fairly 
drive  me  out  of  the  lighthouse  right  at  the  worst  of 
the  gale?  You  said  yourself  it  wasn't  a  night  fit 
for  a  dog  to  be  out  in.  If  I'd  undertaken  to  walk 
to  Clinkerport  they'd  have  found  me  along  the  road 
somewhere,  frozen  stiff !  That's  all  she  cared  about 
me." 

"Oh,  sugar !"  said  Tobias  again,  "I  wouldn't  hold 
that  against  her.  She's  spirited,  Lorny  is.  She 
was  mad  with  you " 

"I  should  say  she  was!" 

"But  she  didn't  re'lly  mean  it,"  pursued  the  light- 
keeper.  "If  she  had  thought  you  were  in  danger 
she'd  never  driv'  you  out.  I'm  sartain  sure,  Ralph, 
that  she  thinks  a  heap  of  you." 

"She  shows  it!" 

"No,  she  don't  show  it.  No  more  than  you  show 
how  you  re'lly  feel  toward  her." 

"Huh!" 

"Oh,  I  know,"  declared  Tobias  wagging  a  con 
fident  head.  "You  wouldn't  see  no  harm  come  to 
Lorny.  That's  why  I  tell  you  as  I  do  that  this 
Degger — 'nless  he's  a  sight  richer  than  he  'pears 
to  be — ain't  got  no  business  shining  around  her. 
I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  Lorna's  friends  have 
got  to  come  to  her  rescue  and  see  that  she  marries 
a  rich  man." 

He  stopped  right  there.  Tobias  Bassett  was  wise 
in  his  iniquity.  Without  coming  out  unequivocally 


94  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

and  stating  in  so  many  words  that  the  Nicholets 
had  lost  the  greater  part  of  their  wealth,  he  had  inti 
mated  enough  to  trouble  the  waters  of  Ralph's  mind. 

The  latter  could  not  visualize  the  luxury-loving, 
softly-bred  girl  as  a  poor  man's  wife.  Why,  Lorna 
never  could  in  this  world  endure  privation,  or  even 
a  lack  of  those  things  which  only  money — and 
plenty  of  it — could  purchase. 

"Poor  girl !"  was  the  young  man's  secret  thought. 
"She  has  always  expected  to  have  plenty  of  money 
in  her  own  right  some  day.  Wonder  what  John 
Nicholet  has  been  doing  with  the  family  fortune? 
Speculating,  I  bet!  He's  a  visionary  chap. 

"But — but  it  seems  terrible  for  Lorna  if  she  must 
marry  wealth  to  save  the  family  from  penury.  And 
she  all  unconscious  of  the  fate  in  store  for  her.  It 
is  a  wicked,  wicked  shame  1" 


CHAPTER  X 

STARTING  SOMETHING 

IT  WAS  long  before  this  that  the  lightkeeper  and 
his  sister  had  been  put  in  possession  of  Jethro  Potts' 
personal  estate  by  Judge  Waddams.  The  nine  days' 
wonder  of  that  happening  was  past  for  Clinkerport 
folk,  and  as  the  old  couple  made  no  splurge  with 
their  fortune,  the  neighbors  put  aside  the  matter  for 
fresher  gossip. 

With  a  stern  hand  Miss  Heppy  had  put  down  in 
cipient  rebellion  on  her  brother's  part.  The  legacy 
added  to  what  they  already  had  in  the  bank  made 
"just  a  little  bit  more." 

"And  that's  purt'  average  unsatisfying,"  com 
plained  Tobias  on  occasion. 

"You  mean  to  tell  me,  Tobias  Bassett,  that  it  ain't 
a  satisfying  feeling  to  know  you  got  nigh  eight  thou 
sand  dollars  in  the  bank  ?" 

"It's  jest  so  much  more  of  a  temptation  to  Arad 
Thompson,"  sighed  her  brother.  "Dunno  as  we'd 
be  found  guiltless  if  the  bank  did  bust  and  Arad 
Thompson  should  run  off  with  the  funds." 

"I  cal'late  he  won't  run  far  in  that  wheel  chair," 
95 


96  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

said  Heppy,  perhaps  with  additional  confidence  be 
cause  of  the  bank  president's  affliction. 

However,  their  simple  minds  could  not  fail  to  be 
fixed  upon  the  nest-egg  a  good  part  of  the  time. 
When  one  has  worked  and  scraped  to  get  together 
a  few  dollars  over  a  long  stretch  of  years,  the  sud 
den  access  of  comparative  riches  cannot  fail  to 
become  and  continue  to  be  a  very  important  topic  of 
thought. 

Whenever  Tobias  took  his  pay  check  to  the  bank 
and  drew  the  cash  needed  for  their  household  ex 
penses,  he  secretly  desired  to  ask  the  cashier,  Mr. 
Bentley,  to  let  him  see  that  eight  thousand  in  real 
money  so  as  to  be  sure  the  bank  was  still  safely 
guarding  it. 

Tobias  usually  went  to  Clinkerport  in  the  sloop 
Marybird  on  these  marketing  expeditions,  now  that 
the  weather  was  good.  Conny  Degger  on  a  certain 
occasion  went  with  him. 

Degger's  salvage  from  the  wrecked  motor-boat 
had  been  an  oar,  one  seat-cushion,  and  a  broken 
pennant  staff.  In  other  words  the  craft  had  been 
a  total  loss.  And  this  fact  appeared  to  worry  the 
boarder  considerably. 

He  paid  his  weekly  stipend  of  four  dollars  to  Miss 
Heppy  with  admirable  promptness,  and  he  had  sent 
for  a  fairly  well-filled  trunk,  so  that  he  made  a 
presentable  appearance  in  public.  But  he  seemed  to 


Starting  Something  97 

be,  as  Tobias  had  hinted  to  Ralph,  not  overburdened 
with  money. 

At  least,  he  spent  little  in  the  sight  of  the  light- 
keeper.  He  did  not  even  treat  the  latter  to  a  good 
cigar,  as  might  have  been  expected  when  Tobias 
gave  him  passage  in  the  Mary  bird  to  and  from 
Clinkerport. 

"He  ain't  no  three-minute  egg,  that's  sure,"  was 
the  lightkeeper's  comment  to  his  sister.  "He's  hard- 
boiled  all  right." 

Nor  did  Degger  seem  to  make  himself  popular 
with  the  loafers  around  the  Clinkerport  Inn-  and  the 
livery  stable,  as  so  many  of  the  youthful  summer 
visitors  did.  On  one  occasion,  however,  Tobias  heard, 
and  saw  the  boarder  in  earnest  conference  with  a 
man  who  seemed  to  be  quite  well  acquainted  in 
Clinkerport,  although  he  was  not  a  resident. 

"Well,  Conny,  take  it  from  me,"  said  this  individ 
ual,  "somebody  has  got  to  pay  for  that  motor-boat. 
When  a  fellow  treats  me  right  I'm  the  easiest  person 
who  ever  did  another  a  good  turn.  But  they  say 
patience  runs  out  of  virtue  after  a  while.  That's 
my  case  exactly." 

"But  I  haven't  any  money  to  spare  at  present, 
Burtwell,"  complained  Degger,  quite  loud  enough 
for  the  lightkeeper  to  hear. 

"Get  busy  then  and  find  some.  How  do  you 
manage  to  live,  I  want  to  know?" 

"On  expectations,"  Degger  rejoined  airily. 


98  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Huh !  I've  seen  her.  She  looks  all  to  the  good," 
Burtwell  said  coarsely.  "Folks  rich,  I  suppose?" 

"As  cream,"  admitted  the  optimistic  Degger. 

"And  you  expect  to  make  a  killing,  Con  ?" 

"I  fancy  I  am  not  altogether  wasting  my  time," 
the  younger  man  drawled  in  a  tone  that  made  Tobias 
want  to  kick  him. 

"Well,"  Burtwell  said,  "I  can't  afford  to  wait 
forever  for  the  money  I  had  to  advance  on  that 
motor-boat  transaction.  I  tell  you  there  is  a  limit 
to  my  patience.  But  there  may  be  a  way  for  you 
to  help  me — and  yourself — to  some  of  the  where 
withal." 

The  lightkeeper  took  his  packages  then  and  passed 
the  couple  on  the  store  porch.  He  did  not  glance 
at  Degger,  nor  did  he  wait  for  the  fellow  to  join 
him  at  the  dock.  He  got  under  way  in  the  Marybird 
and  let  the  boarder  exercise  his  legs  on  the  shell 
road  if  he  wanted  to  get  back  to  the  Light  for  sup 
per. 

"Something's  got  to  be  done,"  ruminated  Tobias, 
tacking  for  the  cove,  in  which  he  moored  the  sloop 
hard  by  the  lighthouse.  "This  here  feller  may  be 
able  to  rush  Lorny  an'  tie  her  up  to  some  contract 
'fore  she  knows  what  he's  about.  He  seems 
a'mighty  sure  of  himself. 

"I  cal'late,"  pursued  the  lightkeeper,  "that  as  the 
angels  fear  to  tread  on  this  matrimonial  path — as 
Heppy  says — it's  up  to  me  to  do  so.  I  ain't  going  to 


Starting  Something  99 

see  little  Lorny  get  stung  in  no  marriage  game.  Nor 
yet  I  don't  mean  Ralph  shall  lose  all  holts.  Some 
thing's  got  to  be  done." 

It  seemed  as  though  circumstances  played  into  his 
hands.  Tobias  was  conceited  enough  perhaps  to  be 
lieve  that  he  really  was  foredoomed  to  act  the  part 
of  matchmaker.  At  any  rate,  there  was  Lorna  on 
the  shore  when  the  Mary  bird  drifted  in  to  her  moor 
ings,  the  site  of  which  was  marked  by  a  nail  keg. 

Tobias  picked  up  the  bight  of  the  anchor  cable  and 
looped  it  upon  a  becket,  taking  a  turn  or  two  for 
safety.  Then  he  drew  up  the  dory,  put  aboard  his 
purchases,  locked  the  Marybird's  cabin,  and  sculled 
ashore.  Lorna  smiled  upon  him. 

"Nice  day,  Lorny." 

"So  it  is,  Mr.  Bassett.  Didn't  Mr.  Degger  come 
home  with  you?" 

"Oh,  sugar!  I  forgot  all  about  him,  didn't  I? 
Did  you  want  to  see  him  partic'lar,  Lorny?" 

"Just  wanted  somebody  to  play  with,"  she  con 
fessed. 

"Wai !  wal !  you  air  to  be  pitied,"  he  said.  "Won't 
Ralph  do?" 

She  made  him  a  little  face,  but  flushed  too. 

"Ralph  Endicott  is  no  fun  any  more.  He's  as 
grouchy  as  a  sore-headed  bear." 

"I  want  to  know !" 

"Yes.  He's  going  away  soon,  anyway,  I  under 
stand.  And  I'm  glad  of  it,"  the  girl  declared. 


ioo  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Oh,  sugar!  I  suppose  that's  so,"  reflected  To 
bias,  filling  his  pipe.  "Wai,  a  feller  can't  always  ap 
pear  chirpy  an'  lively  when  things  is  going  wrong 
with  him." 

She  flashed  him  a  look  of  suspicion.  "What  do 
you  mean  by  that,  Tobias  Bassett  ?" 

"Er — wal,  like  enough  he  don't  feel  any  too 
happy.  I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  none  of  the  En- 
dicotts  do,  right  now.  Wal !" 

He  sighed  reflectively,  and  slowly  pulled  on  his 
pipe  to  get  it  well  alight.  Lorna  continued  to  stare 
at  him,  a  little  puzzled  frown  marring  her  brow. 

"You  are  the  most  mysterious  person,"  she  said. 
"Tell  me  straight  out  what  you  mean." 

"Oh,  sugar !  I  don't  guess  I  need  to  tell  you  what 
Ralph's  trouble  is." 

She  flushed  more  deeply  then,  and  her  eyes  began 
to  spark.  "If  you  are  hinting  that  I  have  anything 
to  do  with  making  Ralph  Endicott  unhappy " 

"Not  a-tall !  Not  a-tall !"  the  lightkeeper  hastened 
to  say.  "But  I  reckoned  you'd  know  full  as  much 
about  the  Endicott's  private  affairs  as  I  do." 

"Mr.  Bassett!  what  is  it?" 

"Why,  ain't  you  even  heard  about  it?"  exclaimed 
the  old  fellow  most  innocently.  "Didn't  nobody  tell 
you  how  the  Endicotts  have  lost  purt'  near  all  their 
money  ?  Oh,  sugar !  ain't  you  heard  ?" 

"Never!" 

"Wal,  they  do  say  Henry  Endicott  has  jest  about 


Starting  Something  101 

wrecked  the  family  fortune  putterin'  with  them  in 
ventions  of  his.  'Tain't  to  be  wondered  at.  Might 
have  been  expected.  Foolin'  away  both  time  and 
money.  Yessir !" 

Each  of  these  phrases  was  emitted  between  puffs 
of  tobacco  smoke  which  served  as  a  screen  for  the 
expression  on  the  lightkeeper's  countenance. 

"Lost  their  money?  The  Endicotts?  You  can't 
mean  it!"  ejaculated  Lorna. 

"Does  seem  too  bad,"  went  £>n  Tobias.  "  Twarn't 
Ralph's  fault,  of  course.  But  he  feels  it,  I  cal'late, 
as  bad  as  any  of  'em.  Like  enough  he's  goin'  away 
from  here,  like  you  say,  to  get  him  a  job  of  work.  I 
shouldn't  wonder,"  sighed  the  guileful  Tobias. 

"Why,  Mr.  Bassett,  this  is  awful!"  There  was 
real  sympathy  in  Lorna' s  shocked  tone. 

"I  cal'late  that  if  your  Aunt  Ida  did  have  a  liking 
for  Professor  Endicott  years  ago  she  was  wise  to 
turn  him  down.  Yes'm.  She  likely  foresaw  the 
snarl  that  was  comin'  through  Henry's  puttering 
with  these  inventions.  Your  Aunt  Ida  is  a  wise 
woman,  Lorny." 

"Why,  Mr.  Bassett!"  ejaculated  Lorna,  some  dis 
pleasure  in  both  her  tone  and  look,  "Aunt  Ida  is 
not  like  that.  She  is  the  least  mercenary  person  I 
know." 

"Wai,  p'r'aps.  I  don't  know.  But  she'll  mebbe 
be  just  as  well  satisfied  now  that  you  did  turn  Ralph 
down.  Of  course,  a  feller  that's  got  to  work  for 


IO2  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

his  livin' — has  his  own  way  to  make  in  the  world — 
wouldn't  do  for  you." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  Mr.  Bassett," 
cried  the  girl,  her  head  high,  her  cheeks  red,  and 
already  tight-lipped  with  wrath.  "You  have  no 
right  to  say  that." 

"Oh,  sugar!  I  warn't  meaning  nothing  out  the 
way,"  said  Tobias  easily.  "It's  a  good  thing  you 
and  Ralphie  got  over  your  foolishness  'bout  each 
other.  Now,  ain't  it  so?" 

"You  have  no  right — I  won't  listen— oh,  Tobias 
Bassett !  Is  it  really  so  that  the  Endicotts  are  poor  ? 
Has  Ralph  really  got  to  go  to  work?  Why!  he 
never  hinted  at  such  a  thing  when  he  told  me  he  was 
going  away." 

"Guess  you  ain't  been  showing  him  much  sym 
pathy,  have  ye?"  rejoined  the  callous  Tobias.  "But 
now  see  here!"  His  manner  changed  suddenly. 
"Don't  you  go  and  run  off  to  him  and  say  that  I  told 
you  all  this.  I  cal'late  the  Endicotts  wouldn't  be 
likely  to  want  all  the  world  and  Dick's  hat  band  to 
know  they'd  lost  their  money.  Ralph's  proud — you 
know  he  is." 

"Oh,  that  is  true,"  agreed  Lorna,  displaying  much 
disturbance  of  mind.  "Ralph  is  the  proudest  fellow ! 
It's  in  the  Endicott  blood.  I  suppose  they  would 
starve  before  they  would  tell  their  dearest  friends  of 
the  straits  they  are  in." 

"I  cal'late,"  agreed  the  quite  unruffled  lightkeeper. 


Starting  Something  103 

"Perhaps  that  is  what  has  made  Ralph  so 
grouchy." 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  a  mite." 

"I — I  really  can't  think  what  to  do,"  murmured 
Lorna. 

"Oh,  sugar !  you  can't  do  anything,  child.  Ralph 
wouldn't  let  you  help  him.  He  wouldn't  borrow 
money  of  a  girl.  Why,  he  wouldn't  let  me  lend  him 
any,"  and  the  lightkeeper  nodded  his  head  ponder 
ously. 

It  was  plain  that  what  he  had  said  had  made  its 
impression  on  Lorna  Nicholet's  mind.  She  wan 
dered  away,  deep  in  thought  and  forgetting  all  about 
Conny  Degger. 

"I  cal'late,"  muttered  Tobias,  "I  have  started 
something  at  last.  Now,  let  'er  simmer!" 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  BLACK  SQUALL 

LORNA  NICHOLET  was  of  a  joyous  heart — a  joy- 
bringer  and  a  joy-giver.  She  had  spent  a  happy 
childhood.  Miss  Ida's  firm  government  had  been 
the  very  best  bringing  up  the  girl  could  have  had, 
for  not  only  was  she  of  a  lightsome  disposition,  but 
she  was  inclined  to  carry  that  chief  trait  of  her 
character  to  recklessness. 

Left  to  herself,  impulse  would  more  often  have 
guided  her  decisions — both  momentous  and  unim 
portant — than  the  really  good  sense  with  which  she 
was  endowed.  She  was  a  charming  mixture  of  in 
fantile  trustfulness  and  downright  practicality.  She 
was  wont  to  trust  in  the  good  intentions  of  every 
body,  yet  she  often  shrewdly  evaded  pitfalls  that 
girls  of  her  cheerfully  optimistic  type  sometimes  get 
into. 

Her  happy  association  with  Ralph  Endicott 
caused  Lorna  to  look  upon  all  young  men  as  being 
like  her  chum.  Because  Ralph  was  chivalrous  and 
a  "good  fellow,"  Lorna  believed  such  was  the 
character  of  all  young  men.  She  treated  Conway 

104 


The  Black  Squall  105 

Dagger  as  she  always  had  Ralph.  Degger  was 
shrewd  enough  (or  was  it  because  of  the  warning 
word  Ralph  had  once  given  him?)  in  most  instances 
to  pattern  his  attitude  after  the  example  set  by  the 
frank  and  clean-minded  Endicott. 

Occasionally  there  were  crudities  shown  in  Deg- 
ger's  nature  that  rather  shocked  the  gently  bred 
Lorna.  But  she  overlooked  these  lapses  on  his  part, 
and  their  companionship  was  in  the  main  that  of  two 
healthy-minded  boys,  rather  than  that  of  a  young 
man  and  a  young  woman. 

She  had  insisted  upon  blaming  Ralph  Endicott 
for  the  determination  of  their  families  to  force 
Ralph  and  herself  into  an  engagement.  She  felt 
that  if  he  had  "put  his  foot  down  like  a  man"  and 
refused  to  hear  of  any  such  arrangement  the  Endi- 
cotts  and  the  Nicholets,  in  conclave  assembled, 
would  give  up  the  idea.  That  she  had  not  yet  de 
clared  in  her  own  household  that  she  scorned  Ralph 
and  would  not  marry  him,  did  not  count  in  her 
opinion.  If  Ralph  was  a  real  man  he  would  not  put 
such  a  burden  upon  her.  And  then,  secretly,  she 
knew  her  Aunt  Ida  and  her  father  would  take  any 
such  declaration  on  her  part  very  lightly  indeed. 

"Lorna  is  very  young  yet,  John,"  Miss  Ida  said 
to  Lorna's  father,  and  in  the  girl's  hearing.  "Too 
young  to  really  know  her  own  mind.  But  surely, 
when  she  throws  off  this  childishness  of  thought,  she 
must  agree  with  us  that  there  is  only  one  proper 


106  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

course  to  pursue.  Ralph  is  a  splendid  boy,  and  his 
family  is  irreproachable." 

"He's  a  good  deal  like  his  Uncle  Henry,  I  should 
say,"  observed  John  Nicholet. 

Miss  Ida  bridled,  as  she  frequently  did  when 
Henry  Endicott  was  mentioned.  Lorna  had  more 
than  once  noted  it. 

"I  should  hope  Ralph  would  have  some  traits  of 
character  not  patterned  upon  those  of  his  uncle," 
she  said.  "I  believe  that  if  Lorna  takes  Ralph  Endi 
cott  for  a  husband,  she  will  do  extremely  well." 

What  could  a  girl  say  in  rejoinder  to  such  calm 
and  over-riding  statements?  Individuality  was  not 
to  be  considered  at  all !  She  must  look  upon  a  mar 
riage  contract  as  of  more  importance  to  the  family 
than  to  herself. 

"I  might  as  well  be  a  French  girl,  instead  of  a 
real  Yankee,"  she  furiously  complained.  "What  did 
our  ancestors  come  here  for?  For  freedom!  And 
I  mean  to  have  my  share." 

"There,  there!"  sighed  Miss  Ida,  smiling  faintly. 
"At  least,  my  dear,  don't  be  loud  if  you  do  insist  on 
being  childish." 

What  could  one  do  under  these  circumstances? 
Run  away?  Flout  her  family — and  the  Endicotts 
— directly?  But  Lorna  had  no  place  to  run  away 
to,  and  nobody  she  cared  to  run  away  with.  Least 
of  all  at  this  time  did  she  have  any  idea  of  running 
away  with  Conny  Degger ! 


The  Black  Squall  107 

That  young  man  bided  his  time  with  admirable 
composure.  If  he  was  deeply  enamored  of  Lorna, 
he  succeeded  in  hiding  the  feeling  from  public  view. 
The  girl  wanted  a  male  companion  to  "play  with." 
Beyond  having  a  good  time  swimming,  and  boating, 
and  fishing,  and  following  other  longshore  pur 
suits,  Lorna  had  no  thought.  Degger  was  a  patient 
waiter. 

The  old  lightkeeper's  suggestion  that  Ralph  and 
his  family  were  in  financial  difficulties  gave  Lorna 
certain  pause.  She  had  been  treating  Ralph  when 
ever  they  met  to  a  mixture  of  careless  comradery 
and  downright  snubbing.  He  could  consider  him 
self  as  being,  in  her  opinion,  of  small  importance. 
She  thought  this  had  begun  to  make  its  impression 
on  what  she  called  "His  High-Mightiness." 

Of  late  she  had  caught  Ralph  looking  at  her  with 
an  expression  of  countenance  that  she  could  not  alto 
gether  fathom.  Was  it  a  look  of  compassion? 
And  why?  Or  did  it  display  his  secret  fear  of  losing 
Lorna  altogether  ?  The  girl  never  had  believed  that 
Ralph  Endicott  was  as  much  opposed  to  the  deter 
mination  of  the  two  families  to  get  them  married 
as  she  herself  was.  What  girl  with  a  proper  amount 
of  pride  and  vanity  could  have  believed  such  to  be 
the  fact? 

Tobias  Bassett's  matchmaking,  brought  to  bear 
upon  Lorna's  mind,  caused  the  girl  to  reconsider 
Ralph's  evident  disturbed  mental  state.  If  Mr. 


108  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Henry  Endicott  had  frittered  away  the  family  for 
tune,  as  Tobias  intimated,  naturally  Ralph's  family 
would  insist  more  strongly  than  ever  that  he  marry 
Lorna. 

Upon  coming  of  age  Lorna  would  have  a  con 
siderable  fortune  in  her  own  right.  This  dowry 
the  Endicotts  naturally  would  consider  as  being  the 
salvation  of  Ralph's  fortunes,  if  not  of  the  family's. 
Nor  did  this  thought  seem  at  all  shocking  to  the 
girl's  mind. 

The  idea  of  Ralph  going  away  to  look  for  a 
business  opening  seemed  much  more  disturbing  to 
Lorna.  That  an  Endicott  should  be  obliged  to  seek 
a  livelihood  in  the  ordinary  marts  of  trade  was  a 
most  upsetting  thought.  She  really  wished — did 
Lorna — that  she  might  do  something  for  her  old 
chum  in  a  financial  way  without  thereby  pledging 
her  hand  to  him  in  marriage. 

The  effect  of  all  these  disturbing  thoughts  upon 
her  own  peace  of  mind  was  to  be  considered.  Al 
ready  her  Aunt  Ida  had  emphatically  declared  it  to 
be  Lorna's  duty  to  marry  Ralph.  If  Miss  Nicholet 
knew  of  the  waning  fortunes  of  the  Endicotts, 
would  she  not  be  the  more  insistent  that  "her  niece 
keep  faith  with  Ralph  and  fulfil  the  contract  so  long 
arranged  by  their  kin? 

"My  goodness!"  sighed  Lorna,  being  sorry  for 
Ralph,  yet  more  sorry  for  herself,  "if  it  would  only 
enter  Aunt  Ida's  head  to  marry  Professor  Endicott. 


The  Black  Squall  109 

That  would  be  a  logical  way  out  of  it,  and  would 
relieve  me.  And  if  Aunt  Ida  was  once  in  love  with 
Ralph's  uncle,  why  shouldn't  she  come  to  the  rescue 
instead  of  making  me  the  sacrificial  offering?  Oh, 
dear!" 

Lorna's  confidential  relations  with  Ralph,  how 
ever,  were  broken.  Instead  of  planning  the  day's 
activities  with  her  old  chum,  it  was  to  Conny  Deg- 
ger  she  turned  for  assistance  in  pleasurably  killing 
the  idle  hours  alongshore. 

Degger  did  nothing  quite  as  well  as  Ralph — unless 
his  small  talk  was  more  amusing.  He  did  possess 
a  fund  of  amusing  chatter;  whereas  Ralph  had  been 
wont  to  lapse  into  long  spells  of  silence  while  he 
and  Lorna  were  fishing  or  sailing.  Lorna  often  ac 
cused  Degger  of  "talking  the  fish  off  their  feeding 
grounds." 

Still,  the  light  chatter  of  her  new  chum  was  not 
altogether  unentertaining.  She  could  not  expect 
any  other  young  man  to  be  just  like  Ralph  Endicott. 
Indeed,  she  told  herself  she  did  not  want  Conny 
Degger  to  be  the  same  sort  of  man  as  Ralph. 

Now  she  had  a  chance  to  take  the  lead  when  they 
went  fishing  or  boating.  She  knew  infinitely  more 
(thanks  to  Ralph)  about  such  sports  than  Degger. 
Lorna  could  not,  however,  manage  a  boat — not 
even  the  lightkeeper's  dory — as  well  as  Ralph.  No 
fisherman's  son  in  all  Clinkerport  was  a  better  sailor 
of  small  craft  than  Ralph  Endicott. 


no  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

So  it  was  that  the  day  came  when  Lorna  (whether 
she  would  or  no)  desired  the  presence  of  Ralph  in 
stead  of  Conny  with  her  in  the  dory  off  the  Twin 
Rocks.  She  had  ample  opportunity  on  this  occasion 
to  compare  the  two  young  men. 

The  weather  had  been  uncertain  all  day.  When 
Lorna  and  Conny  Degger  came  over  from  the  Clay 
Head  and  borrowed  the  lightkeeper's  dory,  Tobias 
would  surely  have  warned  them  against  going  out 
had  he  seen  them.  But  he  was  taking  his  daily  nap, 
for  his  care  of  the  lamp  in  the  tall  tower  kept  him 
awake  a  good  part  of  each  night. 

Gusts  of  wind  were  swooping  down  upon  the  sea 
and  ruffling  it  into  lurid  patches  far  off  shore — cer 
tain  indication  of  coming  trouble.  After  the  dory 
was  beyond  the  shelter  of  the  reefs  the  pleasure 
seekers  saw  streaks  of  driving  rain  racing  across 
the  wave  tops,  away  out  on  the  open  sea.  But  the 
fish  began  to  bite  ravenously. 

It  was  while  their  luck  was  so  good  that  Lorna 
saw  suddenly  a  figure  scrambling  over  the  shore- 
end  of  the  outer  reef,  and  waving  an  energetic  arm 
to  them. 

"Now,  what  does  he  want?"  the  girl  demanded, 
with  no  little  exasperation. 

"Who  is  it  ?  The  skipper  ?"  Conny  asked  lightly, 
and  without  turning  his  head. 

"It's  Ralph,"  she  said  shortly. 

"Oh!  Endicott?    He  is  always  trying  to  butt  in, 


Ill 

isn't  he?"  suggested  Conny,  laughing.  "Sour 
grapes,  I  suppose.  Let  him  swing  his  arm  off.  He 
doesn't  own  this  boat." 

Lorna  giggled.  "It's  funny,"  she  commented, 
glancing  back  at  the  figure  gyrating  on  the  rock. 
"Ralph  doesn't  often  get  so  excited.  And  over 
what,  I  wonder." 

Neither  she  nor  her  companion  looked  skyward. 
Over  the  bay  a  black  mass  of  cloud  had  risen  and 
was  rolling  toward  the  open  sea.  Lurid  lightnings 
played  upon  its  edges. 

The  dory  in  which  the  girl  and  Conny  Degger 
sat  was  several  cable-lengths  off  the  jaws  of  the 
reef.  It  seemed  as  though  they  had  plenty  of  clear 
way  in  which  to  manage  the  craft  if  a  squall  did 
strike.  Neither,  however,  expected  what  was  threat 
ening  from  the  cloud. 

When  Ralph,  mooning  alone  alongshore,  as  had 
become  his  wont  of  late,  spied  the  coming  squall 
and  the  couple's  danger  therefrom,  there  was  ample 
time  for  the  fishers  to  have  got  up  anchor  and  gained 
shelter  between  the  Twin  Rocks. 

It  was  several  minutes  before  Ralph  realized  that 
Lorna  at  least  was  deliberately  ignoring  his  effort 
to  warn  her  of  peril.  Or  was  she  so  much  under 
Conny's  influence  that  she  considered  his  wisdom 
in  weather  matters  above  that  of  Ralph  ? 

The  latter  might  be  stung  in  his  pride — a  vulner 
able  spot — by  such  a  thought ;  but  the  occasion  was 


112  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

too  serious  for  him  to  shake  off  responsibility  by  a 
shrug  of  his  shoulders. 

He  saw  at  last  that  the  fishers  were  determined 
to  yield  him  no  attention.  So,  turning  swiftly,  he 
scrambled  back  to  the  sands.  At  the  cove  lay  his 
own  motor-boat,  the  Fenique  f  the  fastest  of  the 
small  flock  of  craft  moored  in  the  cove.  In  five 
minutes  he  reached  the  strand,  pushed  in  a  skiff,  and 
sculled  out  to  the  Fenique 's  moorings. 

Already  the  oily  black  mass  of  cloud  had  spread 
over  the  greater  part  of  Clinkerport  Bay.  Thunder 
muttered  behind  it.  The  vivid  lightnings  intermit 
tently  lit  the  edges  of  the  cloud.  Behind  that  screen 
lurked  an  electric  storm  that,  when  it  burst,  prom 
ised  disaster.  Any  light  craft  in  its  path  would  be 
as  mere  culch  before  a  cyclone! 

The  barren  backbones  of  the  two  reefs  hid  the 
dory  on  their  seaward  side  from  the  site  of  the 
Fenique' s  moorings.  Lorna  and  Conny  might  see 
their  danger  in  season  and  make  for  shelter  while 
Ralph  was  getting  his  motor-boat  out  of  the  harbor. 
But  Endicott  must  take  the  risk  of  this.  As  the  girl 
and  her  companion  in  the  dory  had  refused  to  heed 
his  warning,  Ralph  must  needs  risk  his  own  life. 

In  spite  of  the  seaworthiness  of  the  lightkeeper's 
dory,  Ralph  did  not  believe  Degger  was  seaman 
enough  to  handle  the  boat  in  a  black  squall.  On  him 
might  rest  the  burden  of  the  couple's  rescue  from  the 
tempest  that  threatened. 


The  Black  Squall  113 

He  snubbed  the  skiff's  painter  to  the  mooring 
'buoy.  The  motor-boat  was  in  readiness  for  imme 
diate  use.  He  cast  off  the  mooring  hawser  and  went 
forward  to  turn  the  wheel.  The  spark  caught  the 
first  time  he  threw  the  wheel  over.  The  exhaust 
coughed  sharply.  Ralph  eased  on  the  engine  and 
seized  the  spokes  of  the  steering  wheel  as  the  pro 
peller  blades  began  to  revolve. 

The  Fenique  swam  out  into  the  open  cove,  and  he 
headed  her  for  the  points  of  the  double  reef.  The 
mouth  of  sheltered  Clinkerport  Bay  was  filled  with 
racing,  foam-crested  waves,  the  slate-hued  sides  of 
which  were  veined  with  yellow.  It  was  a  wicked- 
looking  patch  of  water  into  which  Ralph  steered  the 
motor-boat. 

Above  the  thunder  of  the  breakers  on  the  rocks 
and  the  roar  of  the  surf  along  the  shore  he  could 
now  hear  the  high  whine  of  the  coming  squall.  The 
black  cloud  seemed  suddenly  to  have  expanded  into 
a  smothering  mantle  over  both  shore  and  sea. 

As  he  steered  the  motor-boat  around  the  out- 
thrust  rocks,  the  black  squall  burst.  The  dory  had 
not  escaped  the  peril  of  it.  Lorna  and  Conny  had 
got  up  the  kedge,  and  now  Degger  was  at  the  oars 
tugging  vainly  to  drive  the  dory  shoreward. 

"The  poor  fish!"  was  Ralph's  rather  futile  com 
ment. 

A  good  boatman  would  have  known  instantly 
that  to  head  into  the  wind  was  a  perfectly  useless 


H4  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

undertaking.  There  was  a  short  mast  and  a  sail 
lashed  under  the  thwarts.  To  step  the  mast  and 
spread  a  hand's  breadth  of  danvas,  so  keeping  the 
dory  before  the  wind  and  to  outrun  the  waves  that 
were  already  beginning  to  climb,  was  the  seamanly 
thing  to  do.  Just  as  Ralph  had  feared,  Degger  was 
doing  what  most  surely  would  bring  the  girl  and 
himself  into  jeopardy. 

"Ought  to  be  a  law  against  fellows  like  him  ever 
getting  into  a  boat !"  muttered  Endicott,  increasing 
the  speed  of  his  own  craft  when  clear  of  the  point. 
"He's  lost  one  boat  already.  You'd  think  that 
would  satisfy  him.  And  to  lug  Lorna  along  with 
him " 

Ralph  might  have  been  somewhat  unfair  in  this 
criticism  of  Degger;  but  he  was  much  worried  for 
Lorna  Nicholet's  safety.  Under  the  increasing 
strokes  of  the  propeller  the  Fenique  began  fairly  to 
bound  over  the  waves.  She  shook  all  through  her 
length  when  her  propeller  blades  plunged  out  of  the 
water.  She  was  only  "hitting  the  high  spots"  when 
she  came  into  view  of  the  two  in  the  dory. 

Lorna  screamed  in  satisfaction  at  sight  of  the 
Fenique  with  Ralph  standing  in  her  cockpit.  It  was 
a  cheering  sight. 

But  Conny  missed  his  stroke  as  he  glared  over 
his  shoulder  to  see  the  approaching  rescuer.  A  wave 
slapped  aboard  the  dory,  half  filled  it,  and  dragged 
one  of  the  oars  from  Degger's  hand. 


The  Black  Squall  115 

Lorna  screamed  again,  this  time  in  actual  fear. 
She  was  waist  deep  in  the  sea  that  had  come  inboard. 
Degger  showed  no  white  feather,  although  he  was 
awkward  in  getting  into  the  stern  with  the  remain 
ing  oar.  The  dory  had  begun  to  swing  broadside 
to  the  bursting  seas,  and  their  situation  was  indeed 
perilous. 

Ralph  shouted  a  command  that  the  two  in  the 
dory  did  not  hear.  Degger  knew  of  but  one  thing  to 
do.  He  saw  the  dory  in  danger  of  being  swamped 
in  the  trough  between  two  waves,  and  he  plunged 
the  oar  into  the  sea  to  right  her.  The  next  instant 
another  wave  came  inboard,  the  impact  of  it  all 
but  throwing  him  on  his  face  in  the  bottom  of  the 
boat. 

The  dory  began  to  settle  under  this  weight  of 
water.  Their  submersion  seemed  to  be  at  hand. 


CHAPTER  XII 

TROUBLED  WATERS 

EACH  succeeding  wave  was  likely  to  slop  over  the 
gunwale  and  add  to  the  cargo  of  salt  water  already 
shipped  by  the  dory.  She  was  squattering  down  like 
a  wounded  duck,  and  seemingly  quite  as  helpless. 

Degger  was  able  only  to  cling  to  the  steering  oar, 
and  that  was  a  most  futile  thing  to  do.  Lorna  seized 
the  bailer  and  threw  the  water  out  as  fast  as  she 
could.  But  one  person  could  not  bail  as  fast  as  the 
sea  came  inboard. 

The  Fenique,  meeting  the  cross-seas  as  Ralph 
Endicott  steered  her  down  upon  the  wallowing  dory, 
rolled  enormously,  but  her  owner  knew  the  craft's 
seaworthiness.  Her  water-tight  compartments,  bow 
and  stern,  would  keep  her  afloat  even  if  the  cockpit 
filled  and  she  became  quite  unmanageable. 

The  dory  was  fairly  water-logged.  That  indeed 
was  the  salvation  for  the  moment  of  her  two  passen 
gers.  The  dory  would  not  turn  turtle  while  it  swam 
so  low  in  the  sea. 

Lorna  was  at  last  thoroughly  frightened.  It 
was  not  that  she  had  never  been  in  equal  peril. 
Once,  when  they  were  half -grown,  she  and  Ralph 

116 


Troubled  Waters  117 

had  been  swept  out  to  se'a  in  a  never-to-be-forgotten 
tempest,  and  had  taken  refuge  upon  the  Quail  Shoal 
lightship.  That  was  an  occasion  to  be  remembered 
in  very  truth ! 

But  the  girl  had  not  experienced  at  that  time  this 
terrible  sinking  feeling  of  helplessness  that  she  now 
endured.  It  was  born  in  her  mind  that  it  had  been 
her  perfect  trust  in  Ralph  Endicott  that  had  buoyed 
her  up  on  those  other  occasions  when  they  were  in 
peril  together.  She  felt  her  own  helplessness  at  the 
present  time,  and  in  Conny  Degger's  face  she 
marked  nothing  but  an  equal  fear.  Degger  pos 
sessed  none  of  Ralph's  initiative  nor  any  degree  of 
his  cool  courage. 

She  was  face  to  face  with  death.  She  could  not 
swim  to  the  shore  in  such  a  sea  as  this.  Indeed,  no 
swimmer  could  live  in  it.  If  Ralph  in  his  motor- 
boat  did  not  overtake  them  soon,  Lorna  believed 
there  was  little  hope  for  Degger  and  herself. 

She  continued  to  bail  desperately.  The  water  in 
the  boat  rose  against  her  breast  and  almost  choked 
her.  The  chill  of  it  made  her  gasp.  Dimly  she 
saw  Degger  struggling  with  the  oar.  She  looked 
away  at  the  plunging  Fenique  with  Ralph  standing 
amidships  and  clinging  to  the  wheel. 

"Ralph!    Oh,  Ralph!"  she  cried  aloud. 

The  words  were  driven  back  into  her  throat  by 
the  gale.  Degger's  wildly  glaring  eyes  betrayed  his 
complete  panic.  His  very  soul  had  turned  to  water. 


ii8  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

It  was  mere  muscular  reaction — like  that  of  a  dead 
man — that  caused  him  to  cling  to  the  oar.  He  was 
positively  transfixed  with  terror. 

The  motor-boat  plunged  awkwardly  toward  the 
water-logged  dory.  Its  bow  seemed  aimed  to  ram 
the  smaller  craft  amidships.  The  girl  stopped 
bailing. 

If  the  motor-boat  plunged  upon  them,  what  could 
save  the  two  in  the  dory  ?  Lorna  stretched  her  arms 
out  to  Ralph,  ConnyiDegger  released  the  oar,  ashen- 
faced  and  trembling. 

Ralph's  voice  (how  full  and  unshaken  it  seemed !) 
came  down  the  wind  to  them : 

"Stand  by  to  grab  the  rail !  Look  out  for  your 
self,  Degger!" 

He  threw  the  steering  wheel  over  and  lashed  the 
spokes  to  hold  it  steady.  As  the  Fenique's  bow 
swerved  off  from  the  floundering  dory,  Ralph 
sprang  upon  the  roof  of  the  cabin  and  flung  him 
self  along  its  slippery  surface  to  reach  Lorna's  out 
stretched  hands. 

"Hold  hard,  Lorna !"  he  shouted. 

The  motor-boat  slid  past  the  dory.  Ralph  fairly 
snatched  the  girl  out  of  it. 

Astern  he  heard  an  awful  cry.  Hugging  Lorna 
tightly  in  the  embrace  of  his  right  arm,  Ralph  looked 
back. 

Conny  Degger  had  missed  the  Fenique's  rail,  but 
he  had  gripped  the  bight  of  a  rope  trailing  over- 


Troubled  Waters  119 

board.  He  was  being  towed  in  the  sea;  dragged 
through  the  bursting  waves  rather  than  over  them. 
His  precarious  situation  was  not  to  be  derided. 

A  curling  sea  toppled  over  their  heads  and  fell, 
a  smashing  weight,  upon  the  Fenique,  The  motor- 
boat  staggered  under  the  impact  of  the  blow.  The 
cockpit  was  awash  as  Ralph  stumbled  down  into  it 
with  Lorna  in  his  arms. 

The  girl  struggled  out  of  his  grasp.  She  seized 
the  rail,  gripping  it  with  both  hands. 

"Conny!    Save  him!"  she  shrieked. 

At  this  juncture  her  anxiety  for  Degger  seemed 
to  mark  a  deeper  interest  than  Ralph  had  suspected 
she  felt  for  the  man. 

But  Ralph  had  first  their  ultimate  safety  to  think 
of.  He  leaped  for  the  wheel  and  relieved  the  strain 
under  which  the  Fenique  labored.  He  payed  off 
carefully  until  the  motor-boat  began  to  ride  the 
billows  more  buoyantly. 

When  he  stoppered  the  wheel  again  and  turned 
to  aid  Degger,  Lorna  was  creeping  aft  with  the 
evident  intent  of  laying  hold  of  the  rope  to  which 
the  man  clung.  But  she  did  not  possess  the  strength 
to  drag  him  inboard. 

Ralph  set  her  aside  with  a  fending  arm  and  seized 
the  rope.  With  a  long  haul  and  a  heave,  he  brought 
the  gasping  Degger  under  the  rail  of  the  motor-boat. 

As  the  craft  rolled,  Ralph  leaned  over  the  rail 
and  seized  the  half  drowned  Degger  just  as  the  lat- 


I2O  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

ter's  grip  slipped  from  the  rope.  While  the  rail 
dipped  to  the  running  sea  the  rescuer  heaved  him  in 
board. 

Then  Ralph  leaped  back  to  the  wheel  and  righted 
the  motor-boat  again.  When  she  was  once  more 
headed  right,  flying  ahead  of  the  blast,  he  glanced 
over  his  shoulder.  Lorna  was  on  her  knees  in  the 
bottom  of  the  boat  with  Conny  Degger's  head  in 
her  lap.  The  tableau  was  somewhat  startling. 

Of  course,  if  she  really  cared  for  the  fellow 

Then  what  Tobias  Bassett  had  said  about  its  being 
necessary  for  Lorna  to  marry  a  wealthy  man  flashed 
into  Ralph's  mind.  Degger  certainly  was  not 
wealthy.  Ralph  had  reason  to  know  this  to  be  a 
fact. 

If  the  Nicholets  were  in  financial  straits  and 
looked  to  Lorna  to  make  a  moneyed  marriage,  the 
girl  had  picked  the  wrong  partner  in  her  match 
making. 

Ralph  did  not  feel  any  scorn  for  Lorna  in  this 
supposition.  He  only  pitied  her.  Determined  as  she 
was  not  to  marry  Ralph,  Endicott  knew  she  must 
be  forced  by  family  pressure  to  accept  the  next  best 
marriageable  possibility.  But  he  was  sure  Lorna 
was  misinformed  regarding  Degger. 

Of  course,  the  latter  believed  the  Nicholets  to  be 
wealthy.  He  was,  Ralph  was  confident,  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  fortune  hunter.  That  his  old 
friend  and  this  Degger  were  mutually  mistaken  in 


Troubled  Waters  121 

each  other's  financial  affairs  was  not  a  situation 
from  which  Ralph  could  extract  any  amusement. 
Not  at  all !  He  hated  to  see  Lorna  waste  any  of  her 
thought — perhaps  a  measure  of  her  confidence — 
upon  such  a  character  as  Degger. 

"She  has  gone  through  the  wood  and  picked  up  a 
crooked  stick,  after  all,"  Ralph  reflected,  while  ma 
neuvering  the  motor-boat.  "I  didn't  think  she  was 
such  a  little  fool!" 

There  was  some  bitterness  in  this  expression  of 
his  thought.  Although  he  had  no  wish  to  marry 
Lorna  (or  so  he  almost  hourly  told  himself)  Ralph 
Endicott  felt  a  certain  proprietorship  in  the  girl  be 
cause  of  their  years  of  intimacy.  Had  she  been  his 
sister  he  believed  he  would  have  felt  the  same. 

When  Degger  learned  that  Lorna  would  have  no 
dowry,  he  would  leave  her  flat.  He  was  not  a  fel 
low  to  really  fall  in  love  with  any  girl.  He  was 
too  much  in  love  with  himself,  was  Conny  Degger. 

Ralph  looked  around  again.  The  man  was  recov 
ering,  and  Lorna  had  drawn  away  from  him.  She 
was  saturated  as  well  as  Degger,  and  Ralph  saw 
now  that  she  shook  with  the  cold. 

"Come  here,  Lorna,  and  hold  the  wheel.  Just  as 
she  is.  There!  I'll  get  you  something  to  put  on." 

Ralph  drew  out  his  keys  and  unlocked  the  cabin 
door.  He  found  a  heavy  pilot-cloth  coat  and  made 
the  girl  put  it  on. 


122  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"If  Dagger  wants  anything  let  him  look  around 
for  it,"  Ralph  said,  not  altogether  graciously. 

Lorna  flashed  him  an  inquiring  glance  from 
under  her  wet  curls.  Was  it  possible  that  he  was 
showing  jealousy  of  Conny  Degger?  In  spite  of 
their  perilous  position,  she  was  amused  by  this  sug 
gestion. 

That  they  were  by  no  means  out  of  danger  was 
evident.  The  sea  was  running  high,  the  wind  still 
blew,  and  driving  rain  flattened  the  tops  of  the 
waves  and  beat  upon  the  voyagers  on  the  Fenique 
most  viciously. 

The  motor-boat  was  still  running  before  the  gale. 
Seaworthy  as  she  was,  Ralph  did  not  dare  put  back 
for  the  harbor's  mouth.  Lower  Trillion  was  the 
nearest  port  they  could  hope  to  make  in  safety. 

It  was  too  stuffy  and  uncomfortable  in  the  low 
cabin  to  attract  the  girl.  Besides,  one  felt  safer 
outside  with  the  seas  running  as  they  were. 

She  looked  at  Conny  Degger's  face  again.  Its 
expression  declared  so  plainly  his  panic  that  she 
turned  her  gaze  away  quickly.  Never  again,  Lorna 
told  herself,  would  she  be  able  to  look  at  that  young 
man  without  remembering  his  cowardice. 

Ralph  however  did  not  understand  this.  He  had 
mistaken  the  natural  pity  the  girl  showed  Degger  for 
a  much  more  tender  feeling. 

Endicott  had  no  suspicion  that  Lorna  had  been 
playing  Degger  all  the  time  for  the  express  purpose 


Troubled  Waters  123 

of  making  Ralph  himself  feel  slighted.  It  wickedly 
delighted  the  girl  to  feel  that  she  was  making  her 
old  chum  jealous. 

This  possibility  Ralph  would  not  have  admitted 
in  any  case.  Professor  Henry  Endicott  and  the 
other  members  of  his  family  were  constantly  hint 
ing  at  a  contract  between  Ralph  and  Lorna.  Of 
late  more  than  a  little  had  been  said  to  him  regard-* 
ing  the  girl's  association  with  this  Degger.  Why 
did  Ralph  not  put  a  stop  to  it,  they  inquired. 

Although  he  denied  to  himself  that  he  felt  any 
jealousy,  he  had  begun  to  believe  that  it  was  his 
duty  to  separate  Conny  and  Lorna.  He  was  not 
so  lacking  in  humane  instincts  as  to  wish  that  Conny 
had  lost  his  grip  on  the  rope  when  he  was  overboard 
so  that  the  difficulty  would  have  been  quite  satisfac 
torily  settled;  and  yet  the  thought  flashed  into  his 
mind. 

As  Ralph  conned  the  course  of  the  plunging 
Fenique  he  likewise  conned  the  problem  of  how  to 
get  rid  of  Conway  Degger  without  inspiring  in 
Lorna's  breast  a  greater  liking  for  the  fellow  than 
he  believed  she  already  sustained. 

They  raised  the  Lower  Trillion  life-saving  station 
and  drove  on  for  the  mouth  of  the  harbor.  A  can 
buoy  marked  the  channel  and  a  deep-mouthed  bell 
in  a  bracket  on  the  end  of  the  stone  pier  tolled  inter 
mittently.  Ralph  skilfully  steered  into  the  calm 
pool  behind  this  breakwater. 


124  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Some  traveling,"  he  observed,  when  he  had  shut 
off  the  engine  and  looked  at  his  watch.  "Forty-five 
minutes  from  the  light.  The  old  tub  never  made 
better  time,  even  in  a  flat  calm." 

"Are  we  safe  at  last?"  gasped  Degger,  sitting  up. 

"Just  as  safe  as  though  you  were  at  home  and 
in  bed,"  rejoined  Ralph  rather  bruskly. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  Lorna  asked.  "I  look  a 
fright." 

"Why,  Miss  Lorna,"  Conny  said,  quickly  regain 
ing  his  spirits,  "you'll  have  time  enough  to  dry 
your  things  in  the  cabin.  We'll  be  here  for  hours, 
I  suppose." 

"We  may,"  Ralph  said  quickly.  "But  Lorna  can 
go  home  by  land.  I'll  find  somebody  with  a  flivver 
to  take  her  up  to  Clay  Head." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Degger.  "Then  I  guess  I'll 
go  with  her." 

"Guess  again,"  Ralph  rejoined.    "I  need  you." 

"What's  that?"  ejaculated  the  other. 

"We'll  start  back  in  the  Fenlquc  just  as  soon  as 
the  wind  hauls  off  a  little.  She's  fluttering  now." 

"Do  you  think  for  one  moment  that  I  would  risk 
my  life  outside  in  this  dinky  little  craft  again  un 
less  it  is  calm?  I  guess  all  these  motor-boats  are 
alike — as  unsafe  as  they  can  be !" 

"Oh,  I'll  not  start  back  for  the  light  until  all 
danger  is  over,"  Ralph  told  him  quietly.  "The 
clouds  are  breaking.  In  a  couple  of  hours  it  may 


Troubled  Waters  125 

be  all  right.  And  we  must  pick  up  Tobias's  dory 
and  tow  it  in." 

"Of  course!"  Lorna  said  cheerfully.  "I  had  for 
gotten  that." 

"Say!"  exclaimed  Degger  loudly,  "the  skipper's 
dory  can  drift  to  the  Bahamas  and  back  again,  as 
far  as  I  am  concerned.  I  wouldn't  trust  myself 
outside  again  to-day " 

"Then  who  will  pay  Tobias  for  his  boat?"  de 
manded  Ralph  sharply. 

Lorna  had  been  about  to  suggest  this  very  point 
— although  more  diplomatically — when  Ralph  blurt 
ed  out  his  question.  The  scorn  expressed  on  his 
face  and  the  fire  in  his  eyes  stirred  her  to  some  de 
fense  of  Degger 's  selfishness. 

"Of  course  7  will  pay  Mr.  Bassett,"  she  said  de 
cisively.  "It  is  my  fault  that  we  lost  the  dory.  I 
asked  Conny  to  take  me  out  in  it.  I  will  pay  Mr. 
Bassett  if  it  is  lost." 

"It  isn't  going  to  be  lost  if  I  can  help  it,"  growled 
Ralph.  "You  can't  sink  one  of  those  dories  very 
easily.  I  believe  I  can  find  it,  if  we  go  back  before 
night.  Tobias  is  fond  of  that  boat,  too." 

"Well,  find  it,  if  you  are  so  set  on  doing  so," 
snarled  Degger.  "I  refuse  to  risk  my  life." 

"You  are  a  lot  keener  on  saving  your  life  than 
anybody  else,  I  imagine,"  Ralph  rejoined  scorn 
fully.  "I  shall  need  somebody  to  help  when  I  catch 
the  dory,  and  you're  elected." 


1 26  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

v 

"You  can't  bully  me,  Endicott!"  cried  the  other. 
"I  don't  like  your  manner,  anyway." 

"That  makes  me  sad,"  drawled  Ralph.  "I'm  go 
ing  to  weep  over  that — when  I  find  time.  But  we'll 
have  a  try  for  Tobias's  dory  first." 

"I  won't  go  with  you.  You  can't  make  me.  I 
will  accompany  Miss  Lorna." 

"We'll  see  about  that,"  was  Ralph's  rejoinder. 
He  turned  to  the  girl. 

"I'll  signal  the  station.  Perhaps  Zeke  Bassett 
can  get  off,  and  he  will  take  you  up  in  his  car.  He 
can  find  a  boat  to  take  you  ashore.  I  don't  want 
to  beach  the  Fenique." 

"That's  all  right,  Endicott.  You  need  not  bother 
about  Miss  Lorna,"  put  in  Degger.  "I'll  attend  to 
her  transportation  to  Twin  Rocks." 

Lorna  had  hesitated  to  speak  while  the  young 
men  quarreled.  Slowly  however  her  expression  of 
countenance  had  hardened.  She  turned  from  Deg 
ger  and  asked  Ralph  abruptly: 

"Do  you  really  think  you  can  find  the  dory?  Will 
it  be  afloat  so  long?" 

"Oh,  yes.  Hard  work  to  sink  one  of  those  boats. 
With  somebody  to  help  me  I'm  almost  sure  to  re 
cover  it." 

"You  needn't  look  to  me  to  help  you,"  sneered 
Degger. 

"I'll  go  back  with  you,"  Lorna  said  quickly.     "I 


Troubled  Waters  127 

can  manage  the  Fenique  while  you  fish  for  the 
dory." 

"Miss  Lorna !  You  won't  think  of  such  a  thing !" 
Degger  cried. 

She  ignored  him. 

"I'll  go  below  and  light  a  fire,  Ralph.  My  things 
will  be  dry  in  an  hour.  You  put  on  this  coat,  or 
you'll  catch  cold,"  and  she  slipped  out  of  the  pilot- 
coat. 

"Not  me,"  said  Ralph  easily.  "Let  Degger  put 
it  on.  He'll  be  cold  riding  up  to  the  light  in  that 
open  car  of  Zeke's." 

Lorna  dropped  the  coat  on  the  bench  and  without 
looking  again  at  Degger  opened  the  cabin  door  and 
slipped  below.  Degger's  face  displayed  his  chagrin. 
Ralph  chuckled  audibly,  turned  his  back  on  the 
fellow,  too,  and  shouted  shoreward. 

The  coming  of  the  Fenique  had  been  marked  by 
the  lookout  in  the  cupola  of  the  life-saving  station, 
and  the  very  member  of  the  crew  of  whom  Ralph 
had  spoken,  Zeke  Bassett,  now  appeared  upon  the 
sands. 

"Got  your  car  handy,  Mr.  Bassett  ?"  called  Ralph. 
"Got  a  passenger  for  you  to  take  to  the  Twin  Rocks 
Light — and  beyond." 

"Sure,  I'll  take  him,"  was  Bassett's  reply,  seeing 
that  Ralph  indicated  Degger.  "Got  enough  of  the 
briny,  has  he?  I'll  come  right  out  in  Sam's  skiff 


128  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

for  him.  You  had  some  weather  comin'  down, 
didn't  you,  Mr.  Endicott?" 

"  'Some  weather'  is  right,"  agreed  Ralph.  "But 
she's  clearing  now,  don't  you  think?" 

"Sure,"  said  the  surfman.  "Them  black  squalls 
don't  really  amount  to  nothin' — after  they  are  over." 

Ralph  turned  to  Degger  again.  The  fellow  was 
recovering  a  measure  of  his  usual  confidence.  He 
put  on  a  somewhat  uncertain  smile. 

"If  you  all  think  the  trouble  is  over,  I  don't  know 
but  I  might  go  back  with  you  after  all." 

"I  do  know  that  you  won't!"  Ralph  retorted. 
"You  get  into  that  skiff,  Degger,  when  Bassett 
comes  out  for  you." 

"Say!  who  are  you  bullying,  I'd  like  to  know?" 

"I'm  telling  you.  I  did  pick  you  out  of  the  sea,  but 
I  don't  have  to  keep  you  aboard  here  any  longer 
than  I  wish  to.  You'll  go  ashore  now." 

"Oh,  yes!  That  is  the  kind  of  fellow  you  are," 
snarled  Degger.  "You've  had  it  in  for  me  ever 
since  I  borrowed  some  of  your  loose  change  back 
there  at  Cambridge.  I  haven't  forgotten  it — don't 
think!" 

"I  thought  you  had,"  was  Ralph's  mild  sarcasm. 

That  did  not  even  cause  Conway  Degger  to  blush. 
He  still  spoke  heatedly.  "I  presume  you  expect  me 
to  fall  down  and  worship  you  for  saving  my  life." 

"Not  you,"  sighed  Ralph.  "Gratitude  I  am  sure 
is  not  your  besetting  sin." 


Troubled  Waters  129 

"Oh,  you're  only  jealous,"  sneered  the  other. 
"Anybody  can  see  that.  And  you  think  you'll  have 
a  better  time  alone  with  Lorna  aboard  than  you 
would  if  I  went  back  to  the  light  with  you." 

Ralph  started  for  him.  Then  he  halted,  holding 
himself  in.  If  there  was  a  fight  here  on  board  the 
motor-boat  Lorna  must  surely  be  aware  of  it.  He 
bent  on  Conway  Degger  a  look  that  warned  him 
that  he  had  gone  far  enough. 

"I  know  just  the  sort  of  scamp  you  are,  Degger," 
he  said  in  a  low  voice.  "I  should  not  have  let  you 
hang  around  as  you  have.  Your  rep  at  college  was 
enough." 

"How  about  your  own?"  sneered  Degger.  "There 
was  that  Cora  Devine — how  about  her?" 

"Well,  how  about  her?"  rejoined  Ralph,  with  un 
moved  countenance. 

"You  try  to  interfere  in  my  affairs,"  Degger  said 
furiously,  "and  somebody  will  hear  all  about  that 
Devine  girl — believe  me!" 

"I  don't  just  get  you,  Degger,"  Ralph  returned 
calmly.  "But  if  for  no  other  reason,  that  threat 
would  make  me  promise  to  interfere — and  to  some 
purpose." 

"You -" 

"Listen !"  commanded  Ralph,  with  a  gesture  that 
silenced  the  oath  on  Degger' s  lips.  "When  Zeke 
Bassett  takes  you  as  far  as  the  Twin  Rocks  Light, 
you  pack  your  grip  and  go  on  with  him  to  Clinker- 


130  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

port.  I  don't  care  how  far  you  travel  beyond  Clink- 
erport.  But  if  you  are  still  at  the  Light  when  I 
get  back  there,  I'll  thrash  you  out  of  your  skin !  Be 
lieve  me,  Degger,  I  mean  it.  I  hope  you  will  be 
unwise  enough  to  wait  for  me  at  the  Light.  You'll 
be  glad  enough  to  go  after  I  give  you  what  you  are 
suffering  for." 

He  turned  to  catch  the  loop  of  the  painter  Bassett 
tossed  him,  and  drew  the  skiff  alongside  the  motor- 
boat.  Degger  did  not  even  hesitate.  He  stepped 
down  into  the  small  boat,  shaking  with  the  cold,  if 
not  with  fear.  He  scorned  Ralph's  pilot-coat.  The 
surfman  grinned  up  at  Ralph,  nodded,  and  pulled 
back  to  the  strand. 

Ralph  Endicott  had  taken  the  bit  in  his  teeth. 
He  was  determined  to  run  certain  matters  his  way 
from  this  time  on ! 


CHAPTER  XIII 

CROSS  PURPOSES 

AN  odor  of  coffee  was  wafted  through  the  cracks 
around  the  cabin  door.  In  a  little  while  Lorna 
called  him. 

"I've  made  a  hot  drink,  Ralph,"  she  said.  "Just 
as  soon  as  I  get  my  clothing  dry  you  must  come 
down  and  change." 

"Thanks,  Lorna,"  Endicott  said,  accepting  the 
cup  of  coffee.  "But  I  don't  need  to.  I  didn't  take 
a  header  into  the  briny  as  you  did.  You'd  better 
put  on  my  oilskins.  Your  dress  won't  be  fit  to 
wear." 

He  had  removed  his  shoes  and  socks  and  rolled 
up  the  legs  of  his  trousers.  In  this  free-and-easy 
costume  he  could  the  better  get  about  the  wet  boat. 
He  swabbed  out  the  cockpit  and  set  the  waterproof 
covered  cushions  on  their  edges  to  dry.  He  wiped 
off  the  machinery  with  a  handful  of  waste,  and  tried 
the  spark.  The  mechanism  of  the  Fenique  seemed 
to  have  suffered  but  little  from  the  battering  of  the 
heavy  seas. 

The  clouds  scattered  quickly.  The  sun  appeared 
131 


132  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

again,  low  hung  in  the  west  and  of  a  golden-red — 
prophesying  that  old  weather-wise  doggerel: 

"Red  at  night 

Sailors'  delight." 

i 

The  slate-colored  seas  outside  the  harbor  still  ran 
high,  but  they  heaved  now  without  breaking  into 
foam.  Their  rumbling  thunder  against  the  break 
water  was  more  subdued;  no  longer  did  the  fierce 
insistence  of  the  black  squall  mark  the  sound  of 
the  surf.  The  brief  tempest  haci  winged  its  way 
out  to  sea. 

"Shall  we  start  soon,  Ralph?"  asked  Lorna,  ap 
pearing  from  the  cubby  in  the  mannish  apparel  he 
had  suggested. 

"If  you  are  not  afraid  that  it  is  still  too  rough." 

"Nonsense!  I'm  not  afraid  with  you,"  she  said 
with  a  frankness  that  secretly  pleased  him.  She 
seemed  quite  unconscious  that  her  words  marked  a 
comparison  of  Con  way  Degger  and  Ralph.  She 
added :  "The  Fenique  is  a  good  boat." 

"We'll  try  it,  then,"  Ralph  said  cheerfully  and 
without  looking  directly  at  her. 

But  she  was  worth  looking  at!  With  her  glossy 
curls  banded  with  one  of  Ralph's  old  neckties  that 
she  had  found  below,  her  dark  and  glowing  face 
was  more  piquant  than  usual.  The  oilskins  swath 
ing  her  figure  made  it  seem  veritably  boyish. 

She,  too,  was  barefooted,  and  her  tiny,  high- 


Cross  Purposes  133 

arched  feet  were  as  white  as  milk.  Ralph  looked 
at  them  shyly;  but  Lorna  seemed  quite  unconscious 
of  his  scrutiny. 

They  did  not  speak  of  Conway  Degger.  Yet 
Ralph  thought — it  was  a  poignant  flash  in  his  mind 
— that  the  girl  had  been  just  as  unconsciously  frank 
with  Degger  as  she  was  with  him.  Was  she  not 
too  old  now  to  play  about  with  men,  like  the  little 
tomboy  she  was  wont  to  be? 

Never  until  Degger  had  come  into  their  life  had 
this  thought  ruffled  Ralph's  tranquillity.  Surely 
Lorna  Nicholet  was  a  woman  grown.  She  should 
leave  off  childish  things. 

Yet  she  was  such  a  bewitching  morsel  of  a  girl! 
Ralph  moved  nervously.  He  cast  another  glance  at 
those  wondrously  white,  blue-veined  insteps. 

She  was  so  slim,  yet  perfectly  formed!  The 
ankles  sticking  out  of  the  rolled-up  legs  of  the  oil 
cloth  trousers  were  wonderfully  sculptured.  She  sat 
on  the  bench  with  her  ankles  crossed  before  her,  for 
all  the  world  like  a  thoughtless  boy.  Nevertheless 
her  sex-charm  took  hold  upon  Ralph  Endicott's 
senses  as  it  never  had  before.  "Why,"  he  told  him 
self,  "what  a  sweet  wife  Lorna  would  be  for  the 
man  who  wooed  and  won  her!"  It  was  sacrilege 
for  a  fellow  of  Conny  Degger's  kind  to  be  accorded 
even  the  most  innocent  association  with  her! 

"She's  nothing  but  a  child  in  thought,"  Ralph 
told  himself.  "She's  had  too  much  freedom.  Or 


134  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

have  I  grown  up  in  this  last  year  while  she  has  re 
mained  just  what  she  looks  to  be — a  little,  winsome 
child?" 

Ralph  Endicott  should  have  looked  twice,  perhaps. 
As  he  turned  determinedly  away  the  girl  shot  him 
a  roguish  glance  from  under  her  tumbled  curls. 
Then  she  drew  in  the  tiny  feet,  and  the  voluminous 
trouser-legs  fell  over  and  hid  them. 

Ralph  did  not  understand  the  new  feelings  stir 
ring  within  him.  Without  another  word  or  glance 
he  started  the  engine  and  steered  the  motor-boat  for 
the  narrow  entrance  to  Lower  Trillion  Harbor. 

The  sea  was  extremely  choppy  at  the  harbor 
mouth.  The  motor-boat  danced  about,  her  pro 
peller  wiggling  wildly  out  of  the  water  more  than 
half  the  time.  But  Lorna  expressed  no  perturba 
tion.  She  only  clung  to  the  rail  with  both  hands, 
and  when  a  billow  chanced  to  break  and  dash  a 
bucket  of  water  over  her,  she  laughed  aloud. 

"Plucky  kid !"  thought  Ralph  with  pride.  "There 
never  was  a  girl  to  beat  her — never !" 

Yet  he  had  by  no  means  forgotten  how  unkindly 
she  had  treated  him.  There  was  that  time  back 
there  in  the  late  winter  when  they  had  been  cast 
upon  the  hospitality  of  the  lightkeeper  and  his  sis 
ter.  Ralph  could  not  overlook  that  occasion. 

"If  she  thinks  she  can  pick  me  up  and  throw  me 
away  again,  like  an  old  glove  and  just  as  she  pleases, 


Cross  Purposes  135 

she's  a  lot  mistaken,"  the  young  man  told  himself. 
"I  believe  Lorna  is  a  born  flirt." 

He  could  not  really  harden  his  heart  toward  his 
little  churn.  But  he  told  himself  he  was  not  blind 
to  her  faults.  He  had  always  excused  her  way 
wardness,  even  of  late.  And  now  what  Tobias  had 
said  about  the  Nicholets'  financial  trouble  made 
Ralph  feel  even  more  consideration  for  the  girl. 

Of  course  Miss  Ida  and  John  Nicholet  were  par 
ticularly  desirous  that  Lorna  should  marry  Ralph, 
especially  in  view  of  the  family's  misfortune.  And 
if  Ralph  did  not  marry  her  the  Nicholets  might 
make  it  very  unpleasant  for  Lorna. 

"I'll  say  they  will,"  sighed  Ralph.  "She  doesn't 
know  about  their  poverty,  poor  girl.  They  are  cov 
ering  it  up  all  right.  But  it  is  going  to  put  us  both 
in  a  mighty  tight  corner.  Lorna  can't  marry  a 
poor  man  in  any  case.  Why!  that  is  preposterous 
to  consider  even.  But  if  she  doesn't  favor  me — and 
heaven  knows  she  doesn't — how  will  she  ever  square 
it  with  her  family?  They  have  never  given  her  a 
chance  to  meet  the  right  chaps. 

"Great  grief !  Do  I  want  to  marry  Lorna  or  not? 
I'  wonder !" 

He  cast  another  glance  at  her  over  his  shoulder. 
She  still  sat  on  the  bench.  She  had  shaken  the 
curls  over  her  face,  and  her  red  lips  were  pursed  in 
a  most  adorable  pout. 


136  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Ralph  sighed  hugely,  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and 
looked  forward  again.  It  certainly  was  a  puzzle ! 

Suddenly  he  saw  something  that  brought  a  cry 
from  his  lips.  Lorna  jumped  up  and  ran  to  him, 
clinging  to  his  arm  and  pressing  close  against  him  as 
she  looked  over  his  shoulder. 

"Oh!  do  you  see  it,  Ralph?"  she  cried. 

He  pointed.  The  dory  heaved  into  view  again 
on  another  billow — a  dark  patch  upon  the  slate-col 
ored  sea. 

"Can  we  catch  it?"  breathed  Lorna  in  his  ear,  a 
curl  brushing  his  flushing  cheek. 

"To  be  sure,"  and  he  moved  aside.  "You  take 
hold  here.  She  doesn't  kick  much.  Steady  now!" 

"Oh!"  she  pouted,  "I  can  manage  the  old  wheel 
well  enough,"  and  she  crowded  in  beside  him. 

She  had  rolled  up  the  sleeves  of  his  storm  jacket, 
and  her  little  brown  hands  gripped  the  wheelspokes 
in  a  most  capable  fashion.  Ralph  stepped  back  and 
allowed  her  to  take  his  place.  He  grew  cool  again 
and  grinned  to  himself.  She  certainly  was  one 
plucky  girl! 

He  had  no  idea  that  he  had  overlooked  a  chance 
that  perhaps  would  never  be  offered  to  him  again. 

He  got  a  bucket  from  below  and  then  coiled' 
down  a  length  of  halyard  and  held  the  end  of  it 
in  readiness  as  Lorna  brought  the  Feniqite  rubbing 
alongside  the  wallowing  dory. 

Ralph  went  over  the  side,  carrying  the  rope  and 


Cross  Purposes  137 

'bucket  with  him  and  stood  knee  deep  in  water  in 
the  dory's  bottom.  He  bent  on  the  line  and  ges 
tured  to  the  girl  to  bear  off  so  as  to  drag  the  dory 
astern  of  the  motor-boat.  Then  he  went  to  work  to 
bail  out  with  the  bucket. 

This  was  a  hard  fight  at  first,  for  the  waves  were 
still  boisterous.  Every  now  and  then  one  broke 
over  the  dory  and  came  near  to  filling  it  as  full  as 
it  was  when  Ralph  got  aboard. 

But  the  young  fellow  persevered.  If  he  possessed 
one  characteristic  stronger  than  another,  it  was 
stubbornness.  At  this  juncture  it  proved  to  be  a 
virtue.  He  plied  the  bucket  steadily,  and  at  last 
lowered  the  water  in  the  dory  so  that  he  could  afford 
to  take  breath. 

"Good  boy,  Ralphie,"  shouted  Lorna,  down  wind, 
and  he  looked  up  to  see  her  elfin  face  all  asmile 
again  for  him.  He  waved  his  hand  cheerily.  "Shall 
I  tune  her  up  a  little?"  she  asked. 

"Little  at  a  time,  Kid !    That's  the  boy !" 

He  had  spoken  to  her  that  way  ten  years  before 
when  they  were  in  the  middle  of  some  adventurous 
escapade.  Lorna  flushed  and  turned  away  her  face 
again.  More  than  a  pout  expressed  her  vexation 
now.  Ralph  did  not  show  a  proper  appreciation  of 
her  "grown-upness."  She  had  been  for  the  moment 
too  kind  to  him ! 

So  after  that,  and  when  he  had  bailed  the  dory 
completely  and  had  come  inboard,  Lorna  snubbed 


138  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

him.  Her  fluctuating  attitude  certainly  puzzled  the 
young  man. 

"Now  what  have  I  done?"  he  secretly  wondered. 

But  as  she  left  the  wheel  to  him  without  speaking 
and  went  to  sit  down  alone  in  the  stern  of  the 
Fenique,  he  did  not  urge  conversation  upon  her. 
They  sailed  into  Clinkerport  Bay,  and  so  around  to 
the  cove  beside  the  lighthouse,  both  about  as  cheer 
ful  as  had  been  their  wont  when  together  during  the 
past  few  weeks. 

Tobias  came  down  to  the  shore  to  hail  them. 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,"  the  lightkeeper  said, 
''that  you  sandpipers  air  all  lackin'  in  good  sense. 
'Tis  a  mystery  to  me  how  you  come  to  get  raised  to 
the  age  you  be  without  getting  drowned  a  dozen 
times  over!" 

"I  was  born  to  be  hung,"  Ralph  told  him.  "The 
sea  isn't  wet  enough  to  drown  me." 

"But  you've  no  business  riskin'  Lorny's  life  in 
your  torn-fool  v'y'ges." 

Ralph  did  not  even  bother  to  deny  the  light- 
keeper's  charge.  He  snubbed  the  motor-boat  to  the 
mooring  buoy  and  then  sculled  Lorna  ashore  in  the 
dory.  She  still  wore  his  oilskins  and  was  bare 
footed,  but  carried  her  dress  over  her  arm. 

"I'll  run  up  to  the  light  to  dress,"  she  said.  "In 
any  case  I  must  see  Mr.  Degger  for  a  moment." 

"Your  eyesight  will  have  to  be  pretty  average 
good,  then,"  drawled  Tobias. 


"Ill  run  up  to  the  light  to  dress",  she  said. 

(See  Page  138) 


Cross  Purposes  139 

"Why?"  she  asked,  hesitating. 

"He's  left." 

"Why,  he  was  with  us  down  at  Lower  Trillion!" 

"Ya-as.  I  know.  He  come  back  up  here  with 
Zeke  in  the  automobile,  changed  his  clothes,  packed 
his  sea  chist,  and  went  on  with  Zeke  to  Clinker- 
port.  Heppy's  fair  put  out.  She'd  made  a  heap  of 
fishballs  for  supper.  Cal'late  you  an'  Ralph  better 
stop  an'  help  us  eat  'em,  Lorny." 

"Thank  you.  As  Mr.  Degger  has  gone  I  will  go 
home  immediately,"  the  girl  said.  "Good  evening, 
Mr.  Bassett."  She  did  not  even  cast  a  scornful 
glance  at  Ralph. 

"Oh,  sugar!"  was  Tobias's  comment. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  VARIETY   OF    HAPPENINGS 

RALPH  remained  at  the  lighthouse  and  did  justice 
to  the  fishcakes.  Miss  Heppy  was  "all  in  a  stew," 
as  Tobias  said,  over  the  sudden  departure  of  the 
boarder. 

"I'm  fair  troubled  that  he  wasn't  satisfied  with 
our  table,"  the  good  woman  said.  "Fishballs  and 
brown  loaf  and  clam  chowder  and  johnnycake  and 
baked  beans  Saturday  night  and  Sundays,  is  pretty 
tryin',  I  do  allow,  to  them  as  ain't  used  to  it.  We 
never  do  have  a  piece  of  fresh  meat." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  chuckled  Tobias.  "Don't  belittle 
your  fodder,  Heppy.  You  air  a  mighty  good  cook 
as  fur  as  you  go.  If  you  had  all  kinds  of  fancy 
doo-dads  you  wouldn't  know  how  to  cook  "''em,  you 
know  you  wouldn't." 

"What  do  you  s'pose  cookbooks  was  made  for, 
Tobias  Bassett?"  demanded  Miss  Heppy. 

"I  cal'late  they  make  good  pipe-lights,"  rejoined 
her  brother,  suiting  his  action  to  his  word  as  he 
stood  at  the  mantel  after  supper  and  rolled  himself 
a  spill  of  a  page  of  the  culinary  guide  in  question. 

140 


A  Variety  of  Happenings  141 

"Come,  Ralph,  le's  go  up  and  see  if  the  light  is  burn 
ing  bright.     'You  in  your  small  corner,  an'  I  in 
mine.'    That  allus  seemed  a  cheerful  sort  o'  hymn" 
to  me. 

"Huh!"  he  added.  "Got  your  own  little  packet 
of  coffin-nails?  That  Degger  feller  was  always 
havin'  one  o'  them  things  stuck  in  a  corner  of  his 
mouth." 

Ralph  promptly  threw  away  the  cigarette  and 
filled  his  pipe  from  Tobias's  sack  of  tobacco.  The 
lightkeeper  led  the  way,  chuckling.  When  they 
reached  the  lamp  room  the  old  man  turned  a  curious 
eye  on  his  young  friend  and  bluntly  demanded : 

"Tell  us  all  about  it,  Ralphie.  I  see  the  mention 
of  our  ex-boarder  stirred  you  up.  What  made  him 
in  such  a  hurry  to  leave  us?" 

"Don't  tell  Miss  Heppy,"  begged  Ralph,  "but  I 
guess  it  is  my  fault  that  she's  lost  her  boarder." 

"You  ought  to  have  a  leather  medal  for  bring 
ing  it  about,"  declared  Tobias.  "I  certain  sure  was 
glad  to  see  him  go.  What  happened?  He  and 
Lorny  got  out  in  my  boat  while  I  was  asleep.  I 
can't  be  about  and  stirrin'  to  watch  the  weather  for 
'em  all  the  time." 

Ralph  briefly  narrated  the  adventure  while  Tobias 
listened,  puffing  at  his  pipe  and  nodding  his  head. 

"I  cal'late  Lorny's  got  something  to  thank  you 
for,  then?"  he  suggested. 

Ralph  laughed  harshly. 


142  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"You  saw  how  she  acted  when  we  came  ashore. 
Did  she  seem  overpoweringly  grateful?" 

"Oh,  sugar!"  chuckled  Tobias.  "What  chance 
did  you  give  her  to  fall  on  your  neck  and  tell  you 
how  much  she  thought  of  you?" 

"Now,  Tobias  Bassett!  I  don't  want  any  girl 
to  fall  on  my  neck.  Least  of  all  Lorna  Nicholet." 

"Ain't  ready  yet  to  sacrifice  yourself '  for  the 
good  of  her  family?" 

"I  won't  see  a  fellow  like  Conway  Degger  fool 
her,"  growled  Ralph.  "I  will  break  up  his  game  all 
right.  But  I  tell  you  Lorna  would  not  marry  me 
on  a  bet." 

"Oh,  sugar!  She's  something  of  a  sport,  Lorny 
is.  I  cal'late  you  ain't  ever  made  her  that  proposi 
tion?" 

"Really,  I  don't  have  to  wait  for  a  ton  of  coal  to 
fall  on  me  to  take  a  hint,"  Ralph  said,  but  looking 
away  from  the  amused  lightkeeper. 

"No?  I  dunno  'bout  that,"  muttered  Tobias,  who 
found  his  matchmaking  with  this  rather  dense 
young  fellow  somewhat  uphill  work.  "I'd  like  to 
see  Lorny  get  a  good  fellow  with  as  much  money 
as  you've  got,  Ralph,  and  almost  as  much  sense." 

"Huh!" 

"And  that  Degger  don't  fill  the  bill." 

"If  he  doesn't  let  her  alone " 

"Yep.  That's  all  right.  But  in  removing  him 
from  the  scene  you  don't  give  Lorny  no  other  play- 


A  Variety  of  Happenings  143 

toy.  And  she's  been  used  to  having  a  chap  at  her 
beck  an'  call  all  of  the  time.  You  know  that." 

"But,  Tobias!  She  doesn't  want  me.  She  has 
shown  plainly  enough  that  she  cares  nothing  for 
me." 

"Oh,  sugar !  I  don't  see  how  it  is  that  you  young 
fellers  understand  so  little  about  womenfolks." 

"To  hear  you  talk !    And  you  not  even  married !" 

"That's  why,"  rejoined  Tobias  slyly.  "I  cal'late 
I  understand  'em  too  well.  Now,  s'posin'  Lorna 
was  a  gal  you'd  just  met  and  you  was  stuck  on  her? 
S'posin'  you  wanted  to  make  a  good  impression  on 
her — eh?  How  would  you  go  about  it?  S'posin' 
you  was  really  fallin'  in  love  with  Lorny?" 

Ralph  slowly  flushed.  The  smoke  from  his  pipe 
choked  him — or  seemed  to.  He  coughed  and  turned 
from  Tobias  again. 

Actually  he  was  seeing  in  his  mind's  vision  a 
tiny,  milk-white,  blue-veined  foot  sticking  out  of 
the  leg  of  a  pair  of  oilcloth  overalls. 

But  Lorna  Nicholet  possessed  dignity,  too.  Nor 
did  she  have  always  to  wait  on  the  ruffling  of  her 
temper  to  show  it. 

Miss  Ida  chanced  to  suffer  an  infrequent  head 
ache  on  this  evening  and  there  were  guests  at  din 
ner,  although  it  was  quite  an  informal  affair.  An 
hour  after  she  had  run,  barefooted  and  in  Ralph's 
suit  of  oilskins,  along  the  beach  and  up  the  path  to 


144  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

the  house  on  Clay  Head,  Lorna,  in  a  perfect  dinner 
toilet,  slipped  into  the  seat  at  the  head  of  the  table 
after  her  father  and  his  guests  were  seated. 

There  are  raveled  edges  at  every  dinner'  to  be 
hemmed.  The  perfectly  served  meal  is  usually  the 
one  over  which  the  hostess  has  worried  her  nerves 
to  the  raw.  There  was  a  new  maid — of  the  usual 
kind  one  gets  at  the  seashore — and  Lorna  was 
obliged  to  cover  her  deficiencies  and  carry  on  at  the 
same  time  a  spirited  conversation  with  the  women 
guests. 

The  men  were  seated  at  her  father's  end  of  the 
table,  and  Lorna  sensed  early  in  the  meal  that  this 
was  a  semi-business  gathering.  The  wives  had  been 
brought  along  to  make  the  occasion  seem  less  like 
a  board-room  wrangle. 

Now  and  then  Lorna  heard  a  few  words  of  the 
business  discussion  that  went  steadily  on  from 
cherry-stone  clams  to  black  coffee,  like  an  organ 
accompaniment  to  the  chatter  of  feminine  voices. 

"But  we  can't  count  on  Endicott." 

"What  is  the  matter  with  the  fellow?  He  was 
strong  for  the  proposition  a  year  ago." 

"Usually  Henry  Endicott  will  at  least  listen  to 
plans  for  a  public  improvement." 

"Wrapped  in  some  new  invention,  like  enough." 

"Those  experiments  of  his  must  cost  him  a  pretty 
penny." 


A  Variety  of  Happenings  145 

"And  they  bring  in  no  dividends,"  was  the  con 
clusion  of  John  Nicholet. 

It  was  these  observations  coming  to  her  ear  that 
caused  Lorna  to  seek  her  father  in  his  den  after  the 
guests  were  gone.  She  rustled  in  and  perched  her 
self  upon  the  broad  arm  of  his  smoking  chair  and 
set,  as  usual,  a  moist  kiss  upon  the  apex  of  his  bald 
crown. 

"A  very  satisfactory  evening— yes,  very  satisfac 
tory/'  said  John  Nicholet.  "Let  me  see.  Where 
was  your  aunt,  child  ?" 

"Headache,  daddy.  I  believe  that  is  more  often 
than  not  a  feminine  excuse  for  escaping  a  dry-as- 
dust  dinner.  I  don't  blame  Aunt  Ida.  I  do  think 
that  your  business  friends'  wives  are  the  most  un- 
entertaining  people !" 

"Bless  us!  Are  they?  I  had  no  idea.  Really, 
pet,  it  was  a  business  conference." 

"So  I  gathered,"  Lorna  said.  "What  was  it  all 
about,  daddy?" 

"Just  a  scheme  for  making  two  dollars  grow 
where  only  one  grew  before.  And  I  think  it  will 
succeed." 

"Without  Professor  Endicott's  cooperation?"  she 
asked. 

"Bless  us!  Do  you — ah,  you  'listened  in,' 
rogue !"  he  accused,  shaking  an  admonishing  finger 
at  her.  "Keep  a  still  tongue  about  it,  please,  for 
the  present." 


146  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Surely.    But  I  was  interested " 

"Of  course.  Of  course,"  said  her  father.  "Espe 
cially  when  you  heard  the  name  of  Endicott.  If 
your  Ralph  had  any  money  of  his  own  (which  he 
hasn't,  for  it  is  all  tied  up  in  trust  funds,  I  under 
stand)  I  would  let  him  in  on  this  instead  of  his 
Uncle  Henry." 

Lorna  had  gone  red  and  looked  vexed  at  his  men 
tion  of  "her  Ralph."  But  she  was  still  curious. 

"I  suppose  Professor  Endicott  really  manages  the 
whole  Endicott  estate,  daddy?" 

"Oh,  yes.  It  is  all  in  his  hands.  And  I  do  not 
understand  when  we  offer  him  such  a  bang-up  in 
vestment  why  he  doesn't  come  in." 

"Could  it  be  possible  that  he  is  short  of  funds, 
daddy?" 

"Of  ready  cash,  you  mean?  Why,  I  have  always 
understood  that  the  Endicott  securities  were  so 
placed  that  they  brought  in  a  continual  stream  of 
dividends.  Conservative  in  the  extreme,  yet  safe 
investments.  Otherwise,  how  has  Henry  managed 
to  run  that  family  in  such  an  extravagant  way  and 
to  pour  money  into  his  experiments  as  well  ?" 

"Couldn't  that  be  the  very  reason  why  he  does 
not  enter  into  this  investment  that  you  have  offered 
him  ?"  ventured  Lorna.  "Perhaps  the  Endicott  for 
tune  is  depleted  to  such  an  extent  that  he  has  no 
surplus  for  investment." 


A  Variety  of  Happenings  147 

"Bless  us!  Do  you  know  that  to  be  a  fact, 
daughter?" 

"I  do  not  know  anything  about  it.  It  may  be 
only  gossip.  But  it  is  reported  that  Professor  Endi- 
cott  has  wasted  the  family  fortune." 

"Dear  me!  You  don't  mean  that,  Lorna?  That 
would  be  a  catastrophe.  What  does  Ralph  say 
about  it?" 

"I  have  never  spoken  to  Ralph  about  such  mat 
ters,"  said  Lorna,  a  little  stiffly.  ' 

"No,  no.  I  presume  not.  Such  a  sordid  thing 
as  money  does  not  interest  you  youngsters.  And 
in  any  case,  if  Ralph  didn't  have  a  penny  to  bless 
himself  with,  we  can  be  thankful  that  your  money 
is  well  placed  and  you  and  he  need  not  worry." 

Lorna  got  off  the  arm  of  the  chair  quickly.  She 
stamped  her  foot. 

"Daddy,  I  tell  you  I  have  no  intention  of  marry 
ing  Ralph  Endicott !" 

"Bless  us!"  gasped  her  father.  "If  Henry  has 
made  ducks  and  drakes  of  their  money  and  Ralph 
hasn't  a  penny,  who  will  marry  the  boy  if  you 
don't?" 

Amos  Pickering  waved  a  flabby  hand  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  lightkeeper  while  yet  the 
monster-headed  horse  was  a  long  way  from  Miss 
Heppy's  flower-beds  where  Tobias  was  sunning 
himself  with  his  pipe. 


148  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Here  comes  the  Daily  Bladder,"  remarked 
Tobias,  speaking  to  his  sister,  who  was  inside  the 
lighthouse.  "Now  we'll  Tarn  whose  punkin  is  the 
biggest." 

He  arose  slowly  from  his  seat  and  went  down 
the  sandy  slope  to  the  road.  Amos  had  a  paper  for 
the  lightkeeper,  but  he  was  bursting  with  news  him 
self. 

"Ye  ain't  got  no  boarder  no  more,  I  understand, 
Tobias,"  the  rural  mail  carrier  began. 

"You  understand  ^correct,"  agreed  Tobias,  biting 
on  his  pipe  stem.  "An'  I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that 
Heppy  maybe  just  about  broke  even  on  his  board — 
if  anybody  should  drive  up  and  ax  ye,  Amos." 

But  the  mail  carrier  brushed  this  financial  con 
sideration  aside.  There  was  the  canker  of  gossip 
eating  on  his  inquiring  mind,  and  he  blurted  out  the 
subject  at  once: 

"I  didn't  just  know  whether  you  run  that  feller 
out,  Tobe,  or  whether  'twas  his  fight  with  Ralph 
Endicott  that  sent  him  kitin'." 

"His  fight  with  Ralph?"  questioned  Tobias  with 
pursed  lips.  "Did  they  fight  ?" 

"So  I'm  told.  Didn't  you  hear  about  it?"  asked 
the  eager  Amos. 

"Not  as  I  know  of." 

"Why,  so  they  tell  me  down  to  Little  Trillion. 
Over  that  Nicholet  gal.  You  know,  Tobias,  she's 


A  Variety  of  Happenings  149 

been  playin'  fast  and  loose  with  them  two  fellers  all 
summer." 

"No.  I  didn't  know  that,  neither,"  declared  the 
lightkeeper,  puffing  more  rapidly  on  his  pipe. 

"Wai,  now,  you  know,  Tobe,  she's  got  them  two 
fellers  on  her  string.  It  come  to  a  head,  they  tell 
me,  an'  Endicott  licked  this  Degger  to  a  fare-ye- 
well,  put  him  ashore  at  the  Lower  Trillion  life 
saving  station,  and  sailed  away  with  the  gal  on  that 
motor-boat  of  his'n.  They  tell  me  they  was  gone 
all  night,  nobody  knows  where — heh?" 

For  Tobias  had  dropped  his  pipe  and  his  eyes 
suddenly  blazed. 

"I  know  all  about  that,  Amos,"  he  said  sternly. 

"Ye  do?    I  thought  ye  didn't." 

"I  know  it  ain't  so.  Ralph  went  out  after  Lorna 
and  that  Degger  in  his  motor-boat  when  they  was 
in  danger  of  being  drowned  as  dead  as  Pharaoh's 
hosts.  He  put  Degger  ashore  at  Lower  Trillion 
-  'cause  the  feller  was  scare't.  He  brought  Lorna 
back  here  less'n  an  hour  after  Degger  arrived  in 
Zeke  Bassett's  car.  That's  the  truth  on  it.  Who's 
tellin'  this  dirty  story  about  town,  anyway?" 

"Wai,  now,  Tobias,  mebbe  it  is  nothin'  but  a  pack 
o'  lies.  They  was  a-tellin'  of  it  at  the  post-office. 
That  Degger  is  stoppin'  at  the  Inn.  He  an'  a  feller 
named  Lon  Burtwell.  Mebbe  you've  seed  him 
about  town,  off  an'  on,  this  summer?" 


150  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Go  on,"  said  Tobias,  ruefully  scrutinizing  the 
broken  pipe  he  had  picked  up. 

"An'  they  said  that  Degger  said  he'd  had  a  row 
with  Endicott.  He  said  Endicott  had  sailed  away 
with  the  gal.  Intimated  mebbe  they'd  ^-loped. 
Degger  said  Endicott  did  just  that  with  another  gal 
once,  when  he  was  at  college.  There  was  a  scandal 
about  it." 

"And  I  can  see  there's  some  scandal  about  this," 
Tobias  rejoined  reflectively.  "Wai,  Amos,  dates  is 
dates,  and  you  can't  fool  the  clock.  I  met  Ralph 
and  Lorny  when  they  come  ashore,  and  it  was  just 
in  the  shanks  of  the  evening,  'fore  supper. 

"I  don't  reckon  Ralph  ever  laid  his  hand  on  that 
Degger  yet;  but  if  he  hears  this  story  I  shouldn't 
be  surprised  if  there  was  a  ruction.  I  knowed  that 
Degger  didn't  have  no  more  morals  than  a  clam 
worm." 


CHAPTER  XV 

DECISIVE  ACTION 

IT  WAS  impossible  that  such  a  story  should  be 
wafted  about  the  community  without  reaching 
Ralph  Endicott's  ears.  Lorna  might  never  hear  it, 
but  Ralph's  association  with  the  longshore  folk  was 
much  closer  than  that  of  most  of  the  dwellers  on 
Clay  Head. 

In  spite  of  the  Endicott  pride  and  a  large  measure 
of  dignity  for  so  young  a  man — which  Lorna  some 
times  scoffed  at — Ralph  was  not  considered  at  all 
"stuck  up"  by  the  natives.  He  was  quite  at  home 
on  fishing  smack  or  clam  flat.  He  could  hold  his 
own  in  any  work  or  rough  sport  with  the  younger 
men  of  Clinkerport.  And,  in  addition,  he  could  be 
depended  on  at  any  time  to  lend  a  hand. 

For  this  very  trait  of  which  fellows  of  Deg- 
ger's  kidney  had  taken  advantage  at  college,  Clinker- 
port  folk  respected  him.  And  the  individual  who 
brought  to  Ralph  the  unkind  gossip  that  the  mail 
carrier  had  repeated  to  Tobias  o'  the  Light,  thought 
he  was  doing  Ralph  a  favor. 

'  'Course,  we  don't  b'lieve  nothing  like  that  of 
you  and  Miss  Nicholet,"  the  gossip-laden  tongue 

151 


152  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

concluded.  "And  Amos  Pickering  says  that  Tobias 
Bassett  says  that  you  an'  the  gal  was  back  at  the 
Light  from  Lower  Trillion  an  hour  after  Degger 
got  back. 

"But  you  know  how  such  stories  spread.  The 
truth's  a  cripple  while  a  lie  wears  the  seven-leagued 
boots!  An'  this  Degger  does  say  that  you  had 
trouble  over  another  gal  up  there  where  you  went 
to  college " 

"Where  is  Degger  keeping  himself?"  demanded 
Ralph,  breaking  into  his  informant's  story  at  this 
point. 

"Why,  he  an'  Lon  Burtwell  air  around  together 
a  good  deal.  You  know  Burtwell  ?  He's  some  kind 
of  a  promoter — or  suthin'.  I  dunno  but  he's  buyin' 
up  cranberry  bogs.  There's  his  car  standin'  over 
yon'.  He  and  Degger  rides  around  together  a  good 
deal." 

Ralph  waited,  his  face  rather  blue  looking,  his 
eyes  smoldering.  After  a  time  he  saw  Con  way 
Degger  come  out  of  the  hotel.  He  was  with  a  dark, 
sleek-looking  man. 

They  got  into  the  touring  car,  the  dark  man, 
whom  Ralph  knew  to  be  Lon  Burtwell,  settling  him 
self  behind  the  steering  wheel.  Ralph  stepped  into 
his  own  drab  roadster. 

The  other  car  passed  him,  heading  out  of  town 
on  the  road  to  Harbor  Bar.  Ralph  pushed  the 
starter.  Then  he  let  in  his  clutch.  The  roadster 


Decisive  Action 

wheeled  into  the  wake  of  the  bigger  car.  Both  left 
town  at  an  easy  pace. 

Whether  Degger  looked  back  and  saw  that  they 
were  followed  and  by  whom,  or  for  some  other 
reason,  as  soon  as  they  were  clear  of  the  town  the 
bigger  car's  speed  was  increased.  It  whirled  away 
in  a  cloud  of  dust,  and  the  roar  of  its  muffler  could 
have  been  heard  for  miles, 

Ralph  stepped  on  his  accelerator  and  the  low- 
hung  roadster  darted  up  the  road  as  though  shot 
out  of  a  gun.  There  was  no  county  constable  by 
the  way  to  time  either  of  the  cars. 

The  start  Burtwell's  car  had  gained  in  the  begin 
ning  kept  it  well  ahead  for  the  first  ten  or  twelve 
miles.  The  smaller  car,  however,  was  of  racing 
model,  and  Ralph  was  a  speed  demon.  He  finally 
forced  the  nose,  of  his  machine  almost  under  the 
rear  axle  of  Burtwell's  motor  car  and  hung  there 
with  bulldog  persistence. 

Degger  knew  the  pursuer  was  there,  as  was  shown 
by  his  climbing  upon  the  seat  and  looking  over  the 
crushed-back  hood  of  the  car.  He  motioned  Ralph 
away.  If  the  bigger  car  had  to  slow  down  there 
might  be  a  collision. 

But  Endicott  knew  exactly  what  he  was  about. 
He  wanted  to  worry  the  driver  of  the  big  auto 
mobile.  His  was  the  speedier  machine  of  the  two, 
and  he  knew  how  to  handle  it  to  a  hair.  As  Burt- 
well  slowed  down,  Ralph  shut  off  speed  accordingly. 


154  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

The  road  was  narrow  here,  and  he  waited  for  a 
wider  stretch  of  it  before  proceeding  with  a  plan 
he  had. 

"Get  back!"  yelled  Conny  Degger,  gesticulating 
with  his  hand. 

Grimly  Endicott  held  to  his  course.  Burtwell 
slowed  still  more.  They  came  to  the  wider  piece 
of  road  for  which  Ralph  had  been  waiting. 

He  pulled  out  from  behind  Burtwell's  car  and 
went  past  like  the  wind.  There  was  less  than  a 
mile  on  which  to  maneuver,  and  it  was  a  lonely 
piece  of  road. 

For  twenty  seconds  the  roadster  dashed  ahead 
with  a  thuttering  roar  of  its  exhaust.  Then  Ralph 
shut  off,  applied  the  brakes  cautiously  and,  just  as 
he  was  stopping,  turned  the  car  squarely  to  block 
the  road. 

Burtwell's  horn  emitted  a  scared  squawk.  He 
came  to  a  stop  with  clashing  gears  and  Burtwell 
himself  spouting  profanity. 

"What  do  you  mean,  you  crazy  fool?"  he  bawled, 
hopping  out  from  behind  the  wheel  when  his  car 
had  stopped  with  its  radiator  almost  touching  the 
mudguard  of  Ralph's  roadster. 

"I  have  no  business  with  you,  Burtwell,"  Ralph 
replied,  carelessly  tossing  his  gloves  and  the  cap  and 
mask  into  his  driving  seat  as  he  stepped  from  his 
own  car.  "My  business  is  with  Degger." 

"What  kind  of  a  hold-up  is  this,  anyway?"  de- 


Decisive  Action 

manded  Burtwell  blusteringly.  "Do  you  want  to 
talk  to  this  fellow,  Conny?" 

"I  haven't  got  a  bit  of  use  for  him,"  declared 
Degger,  remaining  in  the  seat. 

Ralph's  smile  was  grim  enough. 

"I've  only  one  use  for  you,  Degger,"  he  said. 
"I'm  going  to  mop  up  a  part  of  this  road  with  you. 
Get  out  and  take  your  medicine." 

"What's  this?"  snapped  Burtwell.  "You  ruffian! 
Get  your  car  out  of  my  way  and  let  us  pass,  or  I'll 
show  you  something  altogether  new." 

"Keep  out  of  this,  Burtwell,"  advised  Ralph 
quietly,  yet  never  losing  sight  of  the  promoter.  "I 
am  going  to  give  Degger  the  thrashing  of  his  young 
sweet  life." 

"What  for?"  demanded  Burtwell. 

"He  knows.  Perhaps  it  is  because  I  don't  like 
the  color  of  his  tie-— or  the  cut  of  his  coat — or  that 
hat  he  wears.  In  any  case,  it  is  going  to  be  just  as 
good  a  thrashing  as  though  I  had  the  best  reason 
in  the  world 

"Ah!    Would  you?" 

Burtwell's  hand  had  gone  to  his  hip  and  he  started 
to  draw  something  from  his  pocket.  Ralph  stooped, 
leaped  forward,  and  drove  his  right  shoulder  into 
the  fellow's  midriff  as  he  wound  his  long  arms 
tightly  about  his  waist.  Endicott  had  not  played 
tackle  on  the  scrub  team  for  nothing ! 

The  breath  was  driven  out  of  Burtwell  with  an 


156  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

explosive  grunt.  Ralph  wrenched  the  weapon  from 
his  hand,  stood  up,  and  threw  the  fellow  full  length 
in  the  dust. 

"That  will  be  about  all  for  you,"  he  said  sharply. 
"A  pretty  little  automatic."  He  tossed  the  weapon 
over  the  nearest  fence.  "Now,  Degger,  get  out  of 
that  car.  Or  are  you  packing  some  such  plaything 
as  your  partner  ?" 

He  leaped  to  the  side  of  the  automobile  and 
seized  Degger  by  the  shoulders.  The  fellow 
screamed  as  Ralph  dragged  him  out  over  the  door. 

"Put  up  your  fists,  Degger,"  commanded  Ralph, 
setting  him  staggeringly  on  his  feet  in  the  road. 
"Defend  yourself!  Whether  you  fight,  or  don't 
fight,  I  am  going  to  do  my  best  to  change  your  face 
if  I  can't  your  morals." 

"You  brute!"  bawled  Degger,  growing  white. 

"That  won't  save  you,"  Ralph  declared,  and 
struck  a  blow  that,  landing  upon  Degger's  forehead, 
knocked  him  clear  across  the  road. 

"Get  up  and  take  it!"  exclaimed  Ralph  fiercely. 
"Or  shall  I  come  after  you?" 

But  the  blow  had  roused  every  ounce  of  fight 
there  was  in  Conny  Degger.  He  bounded  across 
the  road  and  swung  his  right  hand  high  above  his 
head.  Just  in  time  Ralph  saw  there  was  a  stone  in 
it. 

He  dodged,  and  the  missile  sailed  over  the  road 
side  fence. 


Decisive  Action  157 

"Good!"  shouted  Ralph,  and,  leaping  into  the 
fray,  struck  again  and  again.  "I  don't — much  care 
— how  you  fight — as  long — as  you — do  fight !" 

Each  punctuation  was  a  punch  delivered.  A 
dozen  healthy  blows  landed  about  Degger's  head. 
He  was  already  groggy.  He  began  to  yell  for  Burt- 
well  to  help. 

"Get  something!  Out  of  the  tool  box!  Knock 
hint  out !"  he  shouted. 

Ralph  had  not  overlooked  the  possibility  of  Burt- 
well's  coming  into  the  fight  from  that  angle.  The 
man  had  scrambled  to  his  feet  and  was  doing  exact 
ly  what  Degger  begged  him  to  do.  He  was  rum 
maging  in  the  tool  box. 

At  this  moment  Degger  received  a  terrific  blow 
on  the  jaw.  He  sank  under  it,  and  his  eyes  rolled 
up. 

Ralph  caught  him  before  he  could  fall,  wheeled 
with  him  in  his  arms  and  heaved  him  up  just  as 
Burtwell  started  with  a  heavy  wrench  in  his  hand 
for  the  common  enemy. 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  to  keep  out  of  this?"  Ralph 
panted,  and  with  a  great  heave  of  his  shoulders 
flung  the  almost  senseless  Degger  into  Burtwell's 
face. 

The  two  went  down  together,  and  neither  imme 
diately  tried  to  rise. 

Ralph  went  to  his  car,  looked  back  over  his  shoul- 


158  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

der,  and  with  a  flash  of  teeth  and  a  bitter  grin  de 
manded  : 

"Got  enough?  You,  Degger,  know  what  this  is 
for.  If  you  don't  put  a  bridle  on  your  tongue  after 
this,  better  put  many  a  mile  between  us.  For  if  I 
come  after  you  again  I  won't  let  you  off  so  easy." 

He  got  into  the  car,  started  it,  backed  it  around, 
and  shot  up  the  road  on  the  return  journey  to 
Clinkerport  before  his  two  victims  were  on  their 
feet. 

Ralph  was  not  entirely  unmarred.  When  he  had 
backed  his  roadster  into  the  stable  behind  the  bunga 
low  that  served  the  Endicotts  for  a  garage,  he  went 
into  the  washroom  and  bathed  his  bruises  and  the 
cut  above  his  right  eye. 

There  was  room  in  the  stable  for  his  small  car 
and  the  family  automobile.  The  remainder  of  the 
floor  space  had  been  turned  into  a  laboratory  and 
workshop  by  Professor  Endicott. 

The  latter  caught  sight  of  his  nephew  before  he 
could  plaster  up  the  cut.  He  opened  the  door  of 
the  washroom,  and,  standing  there,  a  tall,  sapling- 
like  figure  in  his  white  smock,  stared  rather  grimly 
at  Ralph. 

"Another  smash-up?"  he  asked. 

"No,  sir.  The  car  isn't  hurt.  Just  a  little  trouble 
with  a  fellow." 

"With  whom,  may  I  ask  ?" 


Decisive  Action  159 

"That  Dagger."  For  Ralph  was  nothing  if  not 
perfectly  frank. 

A  smile  wreathed  Professor  Endicott's  lips.  He 
was  an  austerely  handsome  man  with  abundant  hair 
which  was  gray  only  at  the  temples,  and  a  smoothly 
shaven  face.  His  eyes  saw  all  there  was  to  be  seen 
through  amber-tinted  glasses. 

That  he  kept  much  to  himself,  seemed  not  fond 
of  society,  and  was  wholly  wrapped  up  in  his  ex 
periments,  made  Professor  Endicott  seem  less  hu 
man  than  he  really  was.  His  sense  of  humor  was 
by  no  means  blunted. 

"So  you  finally  awoke  to  the  presence  of  the 
worm  in  the  apple  ?"  he  suggested. 

"Degger  has  a  dirty  mouth.  I  had  to  stop  it," 
muttered  Ralph. 

"It  went  as  far  as  that?" 

"Say !  how  am  I  going  to  tell  Lorna  who  she  shall, 
or  shall  not,  associate  with  ?" 

"You  should  have  a  right  to." 

"Let  me  tell  you,  Uncle  Henry,  Lorna  is  not  a 
girl  to  be  bidden  in  any  matter.  No  man  will  ever 
dominate  her." 

"You  used  to,"  said  the  professor,  with  a  sudden 
smile. 

"Yes.  When  we  were  kids.  But  no  more.  Be 
lieve  me,  Lorna  is  a  young  woman  who  knows  her 
own  mind  and  means  to  have  her  own  way." 

"Even  with  the  man  she  marries?" 


160  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"She  has  no  intention  of  marrying  me." 

"Don't  you  mean,  Ralph,  that  the  lack  of  inten 
tion  is  on  your  side?"  said  the  professor,  his  brow 
bent  sternly.  "The  fault  lies  at  your  door,  young 
man.  There  has  been  a  well  understood  arrange 
ment  for  years " 

"Between  the  families — yes,"  interrupted  Ralph. 
"But  Lorna  and  I  never  agreed.' 

"How  can  you  talk  so  childishly  ?"  said  Professor 
Endicott  in  much  the  same  tone  Miss  Ida  Nicholet 
used  with  Lorna.  "It  is  too  late  to  hedge  now, 
Ralph.  Be  a  man.  Fulfil  your  family  obligations. 
If  the  girl  seems  indifferent  it  is  because  you  have 
not  been  sufficiently  loverlike.  Can't  you  see  ?" 

"I  see  well  enough;  but  you  do  not,"  his  nephew 
returned  bluntly.  "I  am  quite  sure  Lorna  cares 
nothing  for  me  in  that  way.  And  I  am  not  at  all 
sure  that  I  wish  to  marry  her." 

"Yet  you  interfere  with  this  Degger " 

"If  she  was  my  sister  I'd  do  that.  He  is  a  scur 
rilous  scoundrel." 

"Of  course,"  was  Professor  Endicott's  thought 
ful  comment.  "I  presume  Lorna  will  attract  plenty 
of  such  fortune  hunters  until  you  and  she  let  it  be 
publicly  announced  that  you  are  engaged." 

Ralph's  expression  changed.  He  wagged  his 
head  in  a  regretful  negative. 

"No,  uncle,  I  think  not.    Degger,  even,  was  bound 


Decisive  Action  161 

to  learn  in  time  that  the  Nicholets  are  not  as  well 
off  as  they  are  counted." 

"What?  What's  that?"  demanded  the  professor, 
startled. 

"Haven't  you  heard  anything  about  it?" 

"That  the  Nicholets  have  lost  money?" 

"All  of  their  money.  So  I  understand.  I  bet 
Lorna's  father  has  been  speculating — and  with  her 
money  and  Miss  Ida's  as  well  as  his  own." 

"Great  heavens,  Ralph!  this  is  not  a  joke,  is  it?" 
gasped  his  uncle. 

"I  don't  see  anything  to  joke  about  in  the  loss  of 
one's  fortune.  Either  it  is  so,  or  it  is  not  so." 

"John  Nicholet  is  visionary.  He  was  at  me  not 
long  ago  to  join  in  one  of  his  financial  schemes. 
I  could  not  be  bothered.  Besides,  I  told  him  plain 
ly  I  needed  all  my  ready  cash  for  these  experiments 
I  am  making. 

"I — I — Ralph!  If  this  is  true — if  our  neighbors 
have  sustained  severe  losses — surely  you  would  not 
break  off  with  Lorna  because  of  that?  What  if  she 
has  no  dowry?" 

"Uncle  Henry!" 

"Of  course  not,"  said  the  professor  hurriedly. 
"We  have  plenty  of  money,  Ralph.  There  will  be 
enough  for  you  and  Lorna.  The  little  girl  never 
need  feel  the  pinch  of  poverty." 

"But  suppose  she  will  not  have  me  in  any  case?" 


1 62  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

cried  the  younger  man.  "I  can't  carry  her  off  to  the 
minister's  and  marry  her,  willy-nilly." 

"Pooh !  Pooh !  Cave-man  tactics  are  quite  out  of 
date.  You  are  a  most  unromantic  chap,  Ralph. 
Why  don't  you  try  to  make  the  girl  like  you  ?  And 
surely  she  must  marry  somebody  with  money.  It 
would  be  a  calamity  if  she  secured  a  penniless  fel 
low  like  that  Degger. 

"It  is  your  duty,  Ralph,  to  fulfil  the  plans  made 
by  the  two  families  for  your  welfare  and  the  girl's. 
Under  the  disturbing  circumstances  you  speak  of, 
it  is  all  the  more  important  that  you  and  Lorna 
come  to  a  prompt  understanding.  Suppose  they — 
Miss  Ida,  for  instance — should  believe  for  a  mo 
ment  that  because  of  their  misfortune  we  were — 
er — unwilling  to  have  the  engagement  announced  ? 
Why,  Ralph,  the  Endicott  name  would  be  forever 
disgraced !" 

"Huh!" 

"If  Lorna's  fortune  has  been  unwisely  invested 
by  her  father — and  Miss  Ida's  money,  too — some 
thing  must  be  done  about  it!  Something  certainly 
must  be  done !" 


CHAPTER  XVI 

POISON 

So  NEAR  did  Tobias  Bassett's  matchmaking 
schemes  come  to  naught  that  had  he  known  it  he 
would  have — in  his  own  words — "let  go  all  holts." 

It  seemed  that  his  intimation  to  Ralph  and  Lorna 
regarding  the  supposed  loss  of  their  respective  for 
tunes  was  a  bubble  that  was  bound  to  be  punctured. 
For  Professor  Henry  Endicott,  in  spite  of  his  seem 
ingly  self-centered  existence,  possessed  a  proper 
share  of  kindliness,  and  considered  the  Nicholets' 
financial  troubles  as  his  own. 

He  seldom  left  his  own  premises.  Between  meals, 
and  sometimes  until  late  into  the  night,  the  pro 
fessor  lived  in  his  laboratory,  reading  and  experi 
menting.  The  white  smock  he  wore  while  thus 
engaged  had  become  much  more  familiar  to  him 
than  evening  dress. 

Yet  after  dinner  on  this  evening  Ralph  was  sur 
prised  to  see  his  uncle,  arrayed  in  the  prescribed 
garments  for  an  evening  call  (and  rather  rusty  they 
were,  for  Mrs.  Mallow,  the  housekeeper,  knew  little 
about  grooming  a  man,  and  their  old  valet,  Jerome, 

163 


164  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

was  purblind  and  fairly  tottering  with  age),  march 
across  the  two  lawns  to  the  Nicholet  house. 

Ralph  himself  was  seriously  considering  the  jour 
ney  which  he  had  already  hinted  to  Lorna  he  pur 
posed  taking.  He  was  not  saying  anything  about 
it  at  home,  for  he  feared  his  Uncle  Henry  and  his 
Cousin  Luce  would  object.  He  was  determined, 
however,  not  to  waste  the  entire  summer  in  loafing 
about  Clay  Head  and  the  Twin  Rocks  Light. 

Ralph  planned  for  this  escape  from  home  entan 
glements  just  as  another  and  lighter-minded  young 
fellow  might  have  schemed  for  some  forbidden 
spree.  He  packed  his  steamer  trunk  in  secret. 

Professor  Endicott  came  to  the  dimly  lit  veranda 
of  the  Nicholet  house,  which  overlooked  the  starlit 
bay.  The  white  beam  of  the  Twin  Rocks  Light  was 
flung  far  seaward.  Its  illumination  did  nothing  to 
abate  the  pale  rays  of  the  stars  which  glittered  on 
the  ruffled  water  of  the  almost  land-locked  harbor. 

A  figure  in  white,  quietly  swaying  in  a  basket 
rocker,  leaned  forward  to  distinguish  the  man's 
features. 

"Henry!  Professor  Endicott!  Come  up.  You 
are  an  unexpected  caller." 

"Er — yes,  Miss  Ida.  I  am  not  very  neighborly 
in  my  habits,  I  acknowledge.  So  busy — always. 
You  know.  Er— is  John  in  his  room?" 

"My  brother  has  gone  to  Boston,"  said  Miss  Ida, 
pushing  a  light  chair  toward  him  with  her  neatly 


Poison  165 

slippered  foot.  "Will  you  sit  down,  Professor  En- 
dicott?" 

"Thanks,  Miss  Ida.  Has  John  gone  for  any 
length  of  time?" 

"He  could  not  tell  me  how  long  he  would  be 
away.  But  he  did  say  he  might  be  detained  for 
some  days.  Did  you  wish  to  see  him  particularly?" 

"Yes.  I  did,  really.  But  of  course  I  can  wait 
for  his  return,"  Henry  Endicott  added  hastily. 
"There  is  nothing  troubling  him  in  business,  Miss 
Ida,  is  there?"  he  finally  blurted  out. 

"No.    Not  that  I  know  of,"  was  the  slow  reply. 

"I  fancied  the  last  time  John  spoke  to  me  he  was 
in  some  business  difficulty.  Nothing  of — er — im 
portance,  of  course.  But  I  was  so  deep  in  the  theory 
of  an  experiment  at  the  time — ah,  perhaps  I  did 
not  pay  sufficient  attention.  Of  course  you  would 
know,  Miss  Ida?" 

"My  brother  confides  a  good  deal  in  me,"  said 
the  woman  placidly.  "I  believe  he  has  under  way 
some  new  business  deal.  Perhaps  it  is  that  you 
mean." 

"Perhaps  that  was  it,"  returned  Endicott. 

How  could  he  come  out  bluntly  with  this  sus 
picion  Ralph  had  put  in  his  mind  regarding  the  loss 
of  the  Nicholet  fortune?  He  could  not  do  it! 

He  uttered  a  few  commonplace  remarks.  He 
was  vastly  disturbed,  and  even  a  tete-a-tete  with 
Miss  Ida  did  not  calm  him.  It  was  on  the  tip  of 


1 66  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

his  tongue  all  the  time  to  venture  upon  the  ground 
of  financial  difficulties.  Yet  it  was  quite  plain  to 
the  professor's  observation  that  Miss  Ida  was  not 
after  all  in  her  brother's  confidence  regarding  this 
very  serious  matter.  If  outsiders  were  informed  of 
the  disaster  that  threatened  or  had  overtaken  the 
Nicholets,  the  head  of  the  family  had  managed  thus 
far  to  hide  it  from  the  other  members  thereof. 

Miss  Ida  was  quite  unaware  of  any  present  or 
coming  disaster.  The  professor  desired  greatly  to 
get  hold  of  John  Nicholet.  He  finally  said: 

"When  John  returns,  tell  him  to  come  and  see 
me."  He  rose  from  his  seat.  "I  really  wish  to  talk 
with  him.  Perhaps  there  is  something  I  may  be 
able  to  do " 

His  words  trailed  off  again  into  silence.  He  said 
good-night  and  descended  the  steps.  When  his  fig 
ure  was  only  a  dim  outline  across  the  lawn,  Miss 
Ida  sighed. 

A  dainty  person  in  a  shimmering  frock  came 
lightly  to  her  side  from  the  darker  end  of  the  porch. 

"What  did  the  professor  want,  Aunt  Ida  ?" 

"I  really  cannot  imagine,"  Miss  Ida  said,  quite 
composedly. 

"But  didn't  he  seem  disturbed — more  than  usually 
difficult?" 

"  'Difficult'  does  express  it,  Lorna,"  said  Miss 
Ida.  "He  said  he  wished  to  talk  with  your  father." 


Poison  167 

"On  business?"  Lorna  asked  with  some  eager 
ness. 

"Yes.    He  intimated  as  much.    But  why- 


'Oh,  Auntie !"  exclaimed  the  girl.  "I  am  afraid 
it  is  true !  I  told  father." 

"What  did  you  tell  him?  What  are  you  talking 
about  ?"  asked  Miss  Ida  Nicholet  in  her  most  placid 
manner. 

"I  believe  Professor  Endicott  is  in  financial  diffi 
culties.  They  say  he  has  lost  his  money — has  quite 
ruined  the  family." 

"Lorna!" 

"Yes.  I  told  father.  I  wish  he  were  at  home 
now.  He  is  so  full  of  this  new  business  deal  that 
he  must  have  forgotten  what  I  told  him  I  had  heard 
about  the  Endicotts.  I  believe  that  is  what  is 
troubling  Ralph  so  much — makes  him  go  mooning 
about  as  he  does." 

"Indeed!"  ejaculated  Miss  Ida.  "Are  you  quite 
sure  that  it  is  not  your  treatment  of  the  boy  that 
causes  his  moodiness?" 

"Oh,  dear,  Aunt  Ida!  Ralph  Endicott  does  not 
care  how  I  treat  him.  I  wish  you  could  have  heard 
him  when  we  were  coming  up  from  Lower  Trillion 
the  other  day  in  his  Fenique.  Called  me  'kid' !  Girls 
mean  nothing  to  him.  At  least,  not  this  girl,"  and 
she  laughed  airily. 

"But,  Lorna,"  said  her  aunt,  "can  it  be  possible 


1 68  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

that  this  tale  you  have  heard  is  true — about  the  loss 
of  Henry's  money?" 

"Well,  Aunt  Ida,  how  did  the  professor  impress 
you  just  now?" 

"As  acting  very  strangely — even  for  him.  And 
his  peculiar  manner  did  not  seem  to  arise  as  usual 
from  his  habitual  absent-mindedness." 

"That  is  what  I  thought.  Of  course  the  poor 
old  fellow  always  does  have  a  'lost,  strayed,  or 
stolen'  way  about  him " 

"Why,  Lorna !  Professor  Henry  Endicott  is  not 
old — not  at  all !"  admonished  Miss  Ida  heatedly. 

So  near  did  Tobias  Bassett's  scheme  fall  through. 
Had  John  Nicholet  been  at  home  the  fanciful  tale 
of  financial  disaster,  at  either  the  Nicholet  or  Endi 
cott  side  of  the  big  lawn,  would  have  been  exploded ! 

As  it  was,  the  next  morning,  before  Miss  Ida 
could  make  up  her  mind  to  go  to  Professor  Endi 
cott  and  put  a  plain  question  or  two,  the  latter  had 
plunged  into  a  new  series  of  experiments  from 
which  the  family  did  not  dare  to  try  to  recall  him 
under  any  circumstances.  And  on  the  professor's 
part,  he  had  quite  forgotten  the  Nicholets'  financial 
troubles. 

Ralph  "fiddled  about,"  as  Tobias  Bassett  said,  as 
uncertain  in  his  direction  as  a  crab. 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,"  the  lightkeeper  observed 
to  Miss  Heppy,  "that  the  boy  can't  make  up  his 


Poison  169 

mind  whether  to  go  about  or  keep  on  the  main  tack. 
He  is  as  onsartain  as  April  weather." 

"I  do  hope  he  ain't  sick,"  said  his  sister.  "Maybe 
he's  comin'  down  with  something." 

"Oh,  sugar !  There  ain't  nothing  the  matter  with 
that  fellow's  health,"  chuckled  Tobias.  "  All  he's 
sickenin'  for  is  girlitis — got  it  the  worst  way.  Only 
he  don't  know  it." 

Nor  was'  it  thought  of  Conny  Degger  that  dis 
turbed  Ralph's  mind.  At  least  he  did  not  fear  that 
individual's  approach  to  the  Clay  Head  or  the  Twin 
Rocks  Light.  He  did  not,  however,  take  into  con 
sideration  the  possibility  of  Lorna's  meeting  the 
treacherous  Degger  at  a  distance. 

One  must  occasionally  shop.  An  entire  summer 
could  not  pass  without  the  need  of  renewal  in  the 
Nicholet  household  of  clothing  and  domestic  necessi 
ties.  Clinkerport  stores  did  not  carry  much  variety 
in  any  merchandise.  So  Lorna  started  early  one 
morning,  driven  by  Jackson,  the  Nicholets'  gardener 
and  chauffeur,  for  the  Big  Town. 

It  was  when  she  was  returning  and  was  still  sev 
eral  miles  on  the  far  side  of  Clinkerport  that  Lorna 
spied  a  familiar  figure  walking  ahead  of  the  auto 
mobile  in  the  road.  She  leaned  over  the  back  of 
the  driver's  seat  and  spoke  to  Jackson : 

"That  is  Mr.  Degger  ahead  of  us,  Jackson.  Stop 
when  you  reach  him.  I  wish  to  speak  to  him." 

They  were  almost  upon  the  pedestrian  before 


170  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Lorna  saw  the  bandage  about  his  head  and  that  he 
.carried  his  left  hand  in  a  sling.  The  noise  of  the 
stopping  car  made  him  look  around. 

Ralph  had  certainly  fulfilled  his  promise.  He 
had  so  greatly  changed  Conny  Degger's  facial  ap 
pearance  that  only  from  the  rear  was  he  to  be  easily 
recognized. 

Besides  his  swathed  forehead  he  had  one  rainbow- 
colored  eye  and  a  bruise  on  his  cheek  that  gave  him 
the  appearance  of  carrying  what  the  children  call 
an  "all-day-sucker"  in  that  side  of  his  mouth.  When 
he  opened  his  lips  to  speak  to  Lorna  the  absence  of 
two  teeth  made  an  ugly  gap  in  an  otherwise  perfect 
upper  set. 

"Mercy's  sake !"  gasped  Lorna.  "What  has  hap 
pened  to  you,  Mr.  Degger?" 

For  the  second  time  since  she  had  known  him, 
Lorna  gained  a  look  right  into  the  very  soul  of  the 
fellow.  She  had  seen  him  display  cowardice  in  the 
face  of  danger.  She  scorned  him  for  that,  yet  real 
ized  that  he  was  a  landsman  and — unlike  Ralph 
and  herself — was  unused  to  the  more  boisterous 
phases  of  the  sea. 

Here  was  something  different.  He  did  not  sneer. 
It  was  a  positively  wolfish  snarl  that  he  displayed 
in  reply  to  her  question.  The  blood  rushed  into  his 
face,  making  the  whole  of  it  almost  as  dark  as 
though  his  bruises  were  a  complete  mask. 


Poison  171 

"So  you  haven't  heard  the  glad  news?"  he  lisped 
through  his  missing  teeth. 

"What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Degger?"  she  de 
manded.  "Get  in  here.  I  wish  to  speak  with  you. 
Oh!  is  your  arm  broken?" 

"My  ringer.  When  I  hit  him,"  said  Degger,  with 
a  harsh  laugh.  "I  guess  he  carries  the  mark. 
Haven't  you  seen  him?" 

"Seen  whom?" 

"Endicott." 

"I  don't  understand,"  murmured  Lorna.  "I  have 
not  spoken  with  Ralph  for  two  days.  You — were 
you  fighting  with  him?" 

"I  tried  to  defend  myself,"  snarled  Degger.  "He 
caught  me  unaware.  I  had  no  idea  he  was  such  a 
brute." 

"Oh!" 

"He'll  come  to  you  and  brag  about  it,  all  right, 
when  time  has  erased  the  few  marks  I  put  on  him. 
I  fought  back  the  best  I  could.  But  he  gave  me  no 
real  chance — none  at  all." 

"What  did  Ralph  attack  you  for?"  the  girl  asked, 
her  practical  sense  coming  to  the  fore.  It  was  not 
easy  for  her  to  believe  that  Ralph  Endicott  had 
been  so  unfair  as  Degger  declared. 

"Oh,  we  had  words,"  was  the  latter's  hesitating 
reply. 

"Over  what?" 

He  looked  at  her  from  under  lowered  lids.    The 


172  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

color  receded  from  his  face.  The  corners  of  his 
lips  curled  in  a  wolfish  smile.  He  was  not  a  pretty 
sight. 

"It  was  nothing  you  would  care  to  hear  about, 
Miss  Nicholet,"  was  his  apparently  evasive  reply. 

She  knew  he  desired  her  to  urge  his  confidence. 
It  would  have  been  wiser  had  she  refused  to  be  thus 
baited.  But  curiosity  is  a  most  irritating  complaint, 
and  Lorna  was  not  immune. 

"I  want  to  know  what  you  quarreled  about,  Mr. 
Degger,"  she  said.  "I  know  you  and  Ralph  had 
words  when  you  left  us  aboard  the  Fenique  down 
there  at  Lower  Trillion.  You  were  angry,  or  you 
would  not  have  gone  away  from  the  light  without 
bidding  any  of  us  good-bye.  I  think  you  two  men 
are  very  foolish.  Fighting  and  quarreling.  Like 
dogs!  It  is  most  disgraceful. 

"And  if  I  thought,"  she  added,  "that  you  and 
Ralph  quarreled  about  me " 

He  flashed  her  another  lowering  glance.  His 
smile  now  was  most  malicious. 

"No,  Miss  Nicholet,"  he  said  quite  truthfully, 
"your  name  was  not  mentioned  between  us." 
Then:  "Our  difficulty  arose  over  quite  a  different 
person." 

"Yes?" 

"I  was  a  fool !"  he  exclaimed  with  apparent  anger. 
"I  tried  to  do  somebody  a  favor.  I  thought  I  might 
be  able  to  show  Endicott  wherein  he  was  wrong. 


Poison  173 

Never  will  I  try  again  to  point  out  his  duty  to  a 
man!" 

Lorna  listened  with  growing  amazement.  This 
certainly  was  a  new  side  to  Degger's  character! 

"Just  what  do  you  mean?"  she  asked  wonder- 
ingly. 

"Well,  I  do  not  feel  myself  bound  to  secrecy.  It 
is  Endicott's  affair.  I  only  tell  you  what  is  common 
knowledge.  There  was  a  girl  Endicott  was  chasing 
after  more  than  a  year  ago." 

"Indeed?"  said  Lorna  stiffly.  "I  do  not  believe 
I  care  to  hear " 

"Well,  you  wanted  to  know  what  the  row  was 
about,  didn't  you?"  he  snarled.  "I  have  mentioned 
Cora  Devine  before  to  you.  I  thought  it  was  some 
thing  of  a  joke  then.  But  since  I  have  found  out 
that  Endicott  treated  her  very  shabbily.  She  was  a 
silly  girl,  I  guess — one  of  that  kind  that  believe 
everything  a  fellow  like  Endicott  tells  her.  And  she 
probably  knew  he  was  rich,  too." 

"Oh!"  gasped  Lorna. 

"It's  a  sordid  piece  of  business,"  said  Degger, 
ruminatively.  "Whether  he  really  did  take  her 
away  from  her  folks  or  not,  I  don't  know.  But  she 
needs  help  now,  and  I  heard  about  it.  I  put  it  up  to 
Endicott  and — well,  you  can  see  what  I  got  for  my 
pains,"  he  concluded  with  a  bitter  laugh. 

Lorna  was  shaken  by  his  words.  She  was  dis 
gusted  and  horrified.  Ralph  Endicott  to  be  con- 


174  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

nected  with  such  a  sordid  affair  as  this  that  Degger 
intimated?  She  could  scarcely  believe  it.  She 
thought  she  knew  Ralph  so  well ! 

"I  cannot  imagine  Ralph  doing  such  a  thing  as 
you  suggest,  Mr.  Degger,"  she  said  gravely.  "I 
think  I  know  him  quite  as  well  as  anybody — better 
than  you  do,  for  instance " 

"I  don't  doubt  it,"  interposed  Degger,  grimly. 
"But  a  fellow  is  sometimes  quite  different  away 
from  home — and  at  college — from  what  he  is  among 
his  family  and  friends."  He  laughed  harshly.  "Oh, 
Endicott  knows  the  girl  well.  See  here!  This  he 
tore  from  his  address  book  and  threw  at  me  when 
he  said  he'd  got  through  with  her — well,  you  can 
look  or  not  as  you  please,"  as  Lorna  turned  her 
face  from  him. 

He  had  dragged  from  his  pocket  the  crumpled 
leaf  of  a  memorandum  book  and  offered  it  to  her. 
In  spite  of  herself  the  girl  could  not  refuse  to  look 
at  it. 

She  recognized  a  leaf  of  the  little  red  book  she 
had  often  seen  in  Ralph's  possession.  Yes!  That 
was  his  writing.  She  would  know  it  anywhere. 
Boldly  Ralph  had  set  down : 

"Cora  Devine 
"27  Canstony  Street 

"Charlestown,  Mass." 


Poison  175 

Lorna  was  not  likely  to  forget  that  name  and 
address.  A  flame  of  anger  shot  all  through  her 
trembling  body.  She  did  not  realize  that  Degger 
was  watching  her  with  sly  delight  at  the  mental 
pain  he  caused  her. 

"I  would  not  have  believed !"  she  murmured. 

"Oh,  Endicott  is  sly — dee-vilish  sly,"  chuckled 
Degger.  "But  I  guess  Cora  Devine  has  been  caus 
ing  him  some  worriment  of  late.  She  wants  money. 
She's  been  nagging  him  for  it,  like  enough.  That 
is  what  made  him  so  sore,  I  suppose,  when  I  tried 
to  say  a  good  word  for  her  to  him. 

"Oh,  well!  I  was  a  fool.  I  assure  you,  Miss 
Nicholet,  I've  washed  my  hands  of  them  both.  If 
the  girl  finds  a  shyster  lawyer  to  take  up  her  case, 
Endicott  will  sweat.  Let  him.  He  deserves  to." 

"Now,  I'll  get  down  here,  if  you  don't  mind," 
added  the  fellow,  as  they  came  to  the  outskirts  of 
Clinkerport.  "Thanks  for  the  lift.  I've  had  my 
lesson,  I  have.  I'm  going  to  mind  my  own  affairs 
strictly  in  the  future.  I'm  sorry  for  the  Devine  girl ; 
but  she'll  have  to  fight  her  own  battles  as  far  as 
Endicott  is  concerned.  Good-day,  Miss  Nicholet." 

Lorna  could  not  even  find  voice  to  tell  Jackson  to 
drive  on.  But  he  did  so  on  his  own  initiative  while 
Lorna  sat  very  upright  in  the  tonneau  of  the  car, 
clutching  that  leaf  of  Ralph's  address  book  in  her 
hand. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

REAL  TROUBLE 

MANY  a  Paul  Revere  has  ridden  through  New 
England  hamlets  since  the  original  courier  of  that 
name  and  fame  saw  the  lights  twinkle  in  Old 
North's  steeple.  None  ever  carried  more  exciting 
news  to  the  rural  folk  than  Zeke  Bassett  in  his 
motor  car  brought  to  the  Twin  Rocks  Light  early 
on  this  summer  morning. 

For  two  months  the  life  saving  crews  were  ex 
cused  from  duty  at  the  stations.  Only  the  captain 
of  the  crew  remained  on  guard  at  the  Lower  Tril 
lion  station.  These  two  summer  months  Zeke 
usually  spent  with  Tobias  and  Heppy  at  the  Light. 

Occasionally  Zeke  made  an  odd  dollar  taking  a 
passenger  to  and  from  the  railroad  station.  On 
this  morning  he  had  driven  a  neighbor  to  the  early 
train — "the  clam  train" — that  stopped  at  Clinker- 
port  at  5  .-30.  When  he  came  back  he  scattered 
along  the  shell  road  driblets  of  news  that  was  des 
tined  to  flash  over  the  countryside  in  wide  excite 
ment. 

Zeke  kept  his  car  under  Ezra  Condon's  shed  down 
the  road,  but  he  stopped  before  Miss  Heppy's  flower 

176 


Real  Trouble  177 

garden,  where  she  was  weeding,  to  tell  her  the  news. 
He  startled  her  so  that  the  lightkeeper's  sister  fell 
back  in  the  sand,  trowel  in  hand,  her  broad  face 
paling  slowly  under  the  peak  of  her  sunbonnet. 

"Zeke!  You  don't  mean  it's  true?"  demanded 
Miss  Heppy  in  a  smothered  shriek. 

"Cross  my  heart,  Cousin  Heppy!"  declared  the 
young  man.  "There's  a  crowd  around  the  door  al 
ready — and  it's  shut.  They'll  be  howlin'  there  like 
wolves  b'fore  noon." 

He  started  the  shaking  car  again,  and  it  wheezed 
away.  Miss  Heppy  was  several  moments  getting 
upon  her  feet.  All  strength  seemed  to  have  left  her 
limbs. 

She  tottered  into  the  lighthouse.  Tobias  was  up 
in  the  lamp  room  polishing  the  brasswork.  She 
might  have  called  to  him,  but  it  did  not  seem  to  her 
that  she  could  lift  her  voice  sufficiently  to  make  him 
hear.  Weak  as  she  felt  bodily,  she  started  to  climb 
the  spiral  stair. 

That  climb  was  an  unforgettable  experience  for 
Hephzibah  Bassett.  The  higher  she  climbed  the 
lower  her  spirits  fell.  In  all  her  long  life  disaster 
had  never  looked  so  black  and  threatening  before 
her  as  it  did  now. 

For  many  years  she  and  Tobias  had  worked,  and 
she  had  scrimped  and  saved,  against  that  "rainy 
day"  that  is  the  dread  of  most  cautious  souls  of 
middle  age.  Each  dollar  added  to  their  slowly 


178  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

growing  hoard  had  seemed  positively  to  lighten  the 
burden  of  fear  of  old  age  on  Miss  Heppy's  heart. 

Tobias  frequently  called  her  "Martha."  She  ad 
mitted  she  was  cumbered  by  many  cares.  She  be 
lieved  they  had  been  very  real,  those  troubles  she 
saw  in  the  offing. 

And  here,  of  late,  had  come  the  unexpected  good 
fortune — a  blessing  long  hoped  for,  yet  never  really 
believed  possible  by  either  Miss  Heppy  or  her 
brother.  A  few  hundred  dollars  from  the  estate  of 
Cap'n  Jethro  Potts  would  have  delighted  them.  But 
six  thousand  dollars!  The  gain  of  that  sum  had 
been  quite  outside  their  imagination. 

Altogether  to  their  joint  account  in  the  Clinker- 
port  Bank  their  bankbook  showed  now  just  a  few 
dollars  over  eight  thousand — to  these  plain  long 
shore  people  an  actual  fortune. 

And  now 

Miss  Heppy  panted  her  way  up  the  last  few  steps. 
Ordinarily  her  flesh  would  have  caused  her  to  more 
than  pant.  Her  face  would  have  been  as  red  as  a 
sunset. 

But  it  was  positively  a  pallid  countenance  that 
appeared  to  Tobias  as  he  briskly  polished  brass- 
work  and  whistled  a  wandering  little  tune  through 
his  teeth.  He  did  not  look  at  her  at  first  as  she 
appeared  through  the  hatchway;  but  he  recognized 
her  step. 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,"  he  said  reflectively, 


Real  Trouble  179 

"that  if  I  had  to  puff  and  blow  like  a  ship's  donkey- 
engine,  comin'  up  them  stairs,  I  wouldn't  come  aloft 
no  oftener  than  I  could  help.  What's  sprung  a  leak 
now  to  bring  you  'way  up  here,  Heppy?" 

"Tobias !  Tobias !"  gasped  Miss  Heppy. 

"Oh,  sugar!  Take  your  time.  Get  your  breath. 
If  it's  bad  news  I'd  just  as  lief  not  hear  it  at  all. 
If  it's  good  news  I've  found  that  expectation  is  a 
sight  more  satisfying  than  fulfilment  most  times. 
I  can  wait 

"Dad  fetch  it,  Heppy!  what's  the  matter  o'  ye?" 

She  had  fairly  tottered  into  his  arms.  She  hung 
to  him,  sobbing  and  gasping  for  breath.  Tobias 
staggered  under  her  weight.  It  was  a  minute  or 
more  before  Miss  Heppy  could  make  audible  her 
trouble. 

"Tobias,  it's  gone!" 

"What  ye  lost?  Them  false  teeth  again?  I 
knowed " 

"Tobias,  it's  worse  than  that.     It's  the  money!" 

"What  money?" 

"Our  money,  Tobias!  All  our  money!  Uncle 
Jethro's  legacy  and  all!" 

"Oh,  sugar,  Heppy,  you  been  dreamin'?  You 
know  that  money's  safe  in  the  bank,"  he  urged. 

"But  it  ain't  safe.  The  bank  ain't  safe.  We've 
been  robbed!"  she  cried,  her  voice  rising  to  a  thin 
shriek. 

"Heppy !  What  ever  do  you  mean  ?    That  dratted 


180  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Arad  Thompson!  You  don't  mean  to  say  he's  got 
away  with  it  ?  And  in  that  wheel  chair  ?" 

"It  isn't  Arad  Thompson!  Oh,  it  isn't  him!" 
wailed  his  sister.  "The  bank  has  been  robbed! 
Burglars !  Last  night !  Every  penny  of  cash  in  it ! 
A  hundred  and  forty  thousand  dollars,  so  Zeke 
says !" 

"My  soul  and  body!"  murmured  the  lightkeeper 
reverently.  "A  hundred  and  forty  thousand  ?  My ! 
My!" 

"The  bank's  closed " 

"Course  it  is  this  time  in  the  morning.  Them 
bank  fellers  don't  work  the  morning  tide — never." 

"But  there's  a  sign  on  the  door.  'Tisn't  going  to 
be  open.  Our  money's  gone !" 

"Say!"  ejaculated  Tobias,  his  brain  beginning  to 
function,  "a  hundred  and  forty  thousand  dollars 
oughtn't  to  break  the  Clinkerport  Bank — nor  yet 
Arad  Thompson.  We'll  get  our  money " 

"  Tain't  likely.  Not  all  of  it.  We'll  have  to 
stand  our  sheer  of  the  loss,  Tobias.  If  'twas  bur 
glary  !  Think  of  it !" 

"Oh,  sugar!"  exclaimed  her  brother,  seating  her 
on  a  stool.  "You  needn't  never  mind  about  that. 
I'm  thinking  of  it  all  right.  I  can't  think  of  nothin' 
else.  Who'd  you  say  told  ye?" 

"Zeke." 

"Cal'late  it's  pretty  straight  then.  I  give  it  as 
my  opinion  he  ain't  no  false  alarm.  Well!  Well!" 


Real  Trouble  181 

He  started  for  the  stairway. 

"What  you  goin'  to  do,  Tobias?"  sobbed  Heppy. 

"I  cal'late  to  change  out  o'  these  ily  clo'es  and  go 
to  town.  Zeke  will  stand  by  ye.  I  got  to  know  the 
wust,  as  the  feller  in  jail  for  murder  said  when  they 
interduced  the  hangman  to  him." 

Miss  Heppy  could  not  follow  him  at  the  mo 
ment.  The  promptness  of  the  old  seaman  soon  put 
Tobias  in  a  presentable  suit — though  not  the  funeral 
garments  before  described.  He  got  away  before 
his  sister  was  able  to  descend  the  stairs. 

Zeke  appeared.  Tobias  put  a  question  or  two 
and  learned  that  the  disaster  was  all  Heppy  had 
said.  A  hundred  and  forty  thousand  dollars  was 
indeed  a  great  fortune  for  Clinkerport  people.  Nor 
was  it  a  small  slice  of  the  bank's  capital. 

"They  tell  me,  Tobias,"  Zeke  said,  "that  Mr. 
Thompson  had  called  in  a  lot  o'  money  just  lately 
from  small  loans  and  sech,  so't  the  bank  could  make 
an  investment  that  he  cal'lated  would  yield  a  much 
bigger  return.  Somebody  must  ha'  knowed  this  for 
a  fac',  to  have  busted  the  vault  door  open  at  jest 
this  time." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  observed  the  Hghtkeeper.  "They 
don't  mean  to  say  it's  what  them  city  detectives  that 
you  read  about  call  an  inside  job?" 

"Gosh  blame  it!  Of  course  it  was  done  inside. 
How'd  they  git  to  the  vault  door  otherwise?"  de 
manded  Zeke. 


i8a  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Tobias  grinned.    He  asked : 

"Did  they  bust  the  door  with  dynamite,  or  did 
they  open  it  fair  an'  proper  by  workin'  out  the  com 
bination  of  the  vault?" 

"I  dunno.  They  busted  it  open  an'  got  the  money. 
That's  all  I  know." 

"Wai,  you  stay  here  and  stand  by  Heppy.  I'm 
going  to  town  to  see  about  it,"  Tobias  concluded. 

"Don't  you  want  my  car?" 

"No.  I  cal'late  somebody'll  be  along  to  pick  me 
up." 

In  fact  the  lightkeeper's  sharp  eye  had  already 
descried  a  bustle  about  the  Nicholet  garage.  Jack 
son  had  the  car  out. 

When  he  reached  the  road  gate  of  the  Nicholet 
property,  the  car  was  just  sliding  down  into  the 
highway.  Lorna  waved  him  a  friendly  hand  from 
the  tonneau. 

"Am  I  lucky  enough  to  catch  you  going  to  town, 
Mr.  Bassett?" 

"I  cal'late,"  said  Tobias  grimly,  "the  luck  ain't 
all  on  one  side." 

"Do  get  in,"  she  said  as  Jackson  brought  the 
automobile  to  a  throbbing  halt  once  he  was  on  the 
highway.  "I  want  to  talk  to  you,  anyway.  What 
do  you  suppose  is  the  matter  with  Ralph  Endicott?" 

"Huh?  Oh,  sugar!  Why  don't  you  ax  me  to 
explain  this  here  fourth  dimension  they  talk  so  much 
about?  I  can  easy  tell  how  wide,  high,  and  thick 


Real  Trouble  183 

Ralph  Endicott  is,"  and  his  eyes  twinkled  despite 
his  inner  trouble.  "But  I  can't  tell  you  the  why  of 
him.  That's  beyond  all  nater." 

"Then  you  do  not  really  know  why  he  has  gone 
away?" 

"Oh,  sugar!  He  has  gone,  has  he?  I'd  dis- 
remembered.  He  did  bid  me  an'  Heppy  good-bye 
night  b'fore  last." 

"He  went  away  with  his  trunk  yesterday  after 
noon.  Jerome  told  me  nobody  knew  at  the  house 
where  Ralph  was  going.  They  did  not  dare  tell 
Professor  Endicott,  for  he  was  completely  sub 
merged  in  some  experiment  and  had  locked  the  lab 
oratory  door.  Ralph  tucked  a  note  under  the  door 
when  he  left." 

"You  don't  say?" 

"Did  he  not  explain  to  you,  Mr.  Bassett?" 

"Not  a  word." 

"Nor  to  us.  He  came  over  and  bade  us  good-bye 
just  before  he  left,  in  a  very  formal  way.  I  did  not 
get  a  word  with  him  alone.  Aunt  Ida  asked  him 
where  he  was  going,  and  he  said  he  could  not  tell 
just  where  he  would  finally  bring  up.  Tobias  Bas 
sett!" 

"Yes,  ma'am?" 

"I  believe  Ralph  has  gone  away  to  get  a  job  of 
work  and  is  ashamed  to  tell  us." 

"If  it's  honest  work  he  ain't  no  call  to  be 
ashamed." 


184  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Too  proud  to  tell  us,  then,"  flashed  the  girl. 

"That  sounds  more  likely." 

"Anyway,  he's  gone !"  She  could  not  hide  some 
thing  besides  vexation  in  her  voice.  Disturbed  as 
Tobias  was  by  his  own  trouble,  he  marked  this  fact. 
He  believed  his  matchmaking  scheme,  as  far  as 
Lorna  was  concerned,  was  working! 

"Hard  work  never  hurt  nobody."  He  firmly  be 
lieved  this  fallacy.  "And  Ralph  is  rugged  and 
capable." 

"But  he  has  not  been  trained  to  any  kind  of 
work,"  cried  the  girl  with  anxiety. 

"Why  ain't  he?  He  can  do  most  anything  any 
other  fellow  can  on  a  ship.  And  he's  got  a  good 
idea  of  navigation  into  the  bargain.  He  favors  the 
sea,  too." 

"A  sailor!"  There  was  dread  more  than  dis 
approval  in  Lorna's  tone.  She  had  never  forgotten 
Miss  Heppy's  explanation  of  her  own  fear  and 
hatred  of  the  sea.  She  repeated :  "A  sailor !" 

"No.  A  mate.  Then  a  skipper.  A  lad  like 
Ralph  can  soon  work  up " 

"And  is  that  all  his  college  training  can  do  for 
him?" 

"College  1'arnin'  won't  hurt  him  none  for  a  sea- 
farin'  life,"  said  Tobias  complacently.  "He  can 
aspire  to  walkin'  the  bridge  of  one  o'  them  big 
liners.  You  hafter  be  part  dancin'  master  as  well 
as  navigator  to  sit  at  the  head  o'  the  captain's  table 


Real  Trouble  185 

on  one  o'  them  floatin'  palaces.    Ralph  would  shine 
there." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Bassett!  he  would  not  be  so  foolish, 
would  he?  I  wish  I  had  offered  to  lend  him  some 
money — enough  money  to  straighten  out  the  fam 
ily's  affairs." 

"Do  you  cal'late  what  I  told  you  I'd  heard  whis 
pered  about  the  professor  f oolin'  away  their  money 
is  so?"  asked  Tobias  slyly. 

"Oh,  yes.  Father  is  away  just  now.  Professor 
Endicott  came  to  the  house  to  find  him,  and  he 
seemed  in  great  trouble.  He  as  good  as  let  the  cat 
out  of  the  bag." 

"That  he  was  broke?"  ejaculated  the  startled 
lightkeeper. 

"Yes.    Something  like  that.    To  Aunt  Ida." 

"Oh,  sugar !"  murmured  Tobias.  Then :  "Guess 
we're  all  in  the  same  pickle." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Lorna,  a  little 
startled  by  the  sudden  change  in  the  expression  of 
the  old  man's  countenance. 

"Ain't  you  heard?" 

"Heard  what?  I  have  heard  nothing  at  all 
startling." 

"Didn't  your  folks  have  any  money  in  the  Clinker- 
port  Bank?" 

"Only  Aunt  Ida's  household  account.  A  matter 
of  a  few  hundred  dollars.  Why?" 

"You're  terrible  lucky,  I  cal'late."    Tobias  sighed 


1 86  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

and  shook  his  head.  "You  kin  afford  to  lose  that 
much." 

"Why !  what  do  you  mean?"  she  repeated.  "What 
has  happened  to  the  bank?'' 

"Been  robbed.  Burglars.  Last  night.  Said  to 
have  cleaned  out  the  cash.  And  the  bank's  shet  up 
tight" 

"Mercy!" 

"Heppy's  purt'  near  done  up.     She " 

"But  you  won't  lose  your  money,  will  you?  You 
and  Miss  Heppy?" 

"I  cal'late.  And  we  never  had  a  mite  of  fun  out 
of  it.  Heppy  wouldn't  hear  to  our  making  no 
splurge  with  that  legacy  we  got  from  Cap'n  Jethro 
Potts.  It's  a  judgment  on  us,  I  believe.  I  might 
have  got  me  that  silver-banded  pipe  I've  always 
wanted." 

She  looked  at  him  with  understanding. 

"You  never  would  have  smoked  it,  Tobias  Bas- 
sett." 

"Well,  I  could  have  hung  it  up  over  the  mantel, 
couldn't  I,  for  an  ornament?  Oh,  sugar!  My 
doughnut  always  did  have  the  biggest  hole!" 

"But  if  the  bank  has  been  robbed " 

They  came  into  the  head  of  Clinkerport's  main 
street  as  she  spoke.  Their  gaze  swept  the  thor 
oughfare  as  far  as  the  bank  building  which  stood 
directly  beside  the  post-office. 

A  crowd — really  a  throng  for  Clinkerport — was 


Real  Trouble  187 

gathered  in  front  of  the  bank's  door.  The  stores 
were  deserted  while  the  excited  people  milled  before 
the  barred  windows  and  grated  door  of  the  bank, 
and  more  were  coming  on  foot  and  in  vehicles  from 
all  directions. 

"I  cal'late  folks  is  some  stirred  up,"  observed 
Tobias,  as  he  proceeded  to  get  out  of  the  car. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

A  CLUE 

COATLESS  men  and  bareheaded  women  made  up 
the  excited  company  before  the  Clinkerport  Bank, 
while  shrill-voiced  children  circled  the  outskirts.  It 
was  like  a  circus  or  a  street-fair  day  for  the  young 
sters. 

But  among  the  adults  there  were  grave  faces. 
This  disaster  was  a  very  real  one  to  many  who  had 
scrimped  and  saved — like  the  Bassetts — for  a  bank 
account. 

The  Clinkerport  Bank  was  a  "one  man  institu 
tion."  If  Arad  Thompson  had  mismanaged  it,  or 
had  not  taken  sufficient  precautions  against  bur 
glary,  the  result  might  be  a  lasting  blow  to  the 
community. 

These  people  were  not  familiar  enough  with  law 
and  with  banking  affairs  to  understand  why  the 
Clinkerport  Bank  should  be  closed  if  the  institution 
itself — and  Arad  Thompson — had  not  "gone  broke" 
through  the  robbery  that  was  reported. 

"What  d'ye  think  of  it?  What  d'ye  think, 
Tobias?"  demanded  Ezra  Crouch  of  the  lightkeeper 
when  the  latter  approached  the  scene.  "Ain't  it  a 

1 88 


A  Clue  189 

shame — a  rascally  shame?    That  Arad  Thompson 


"I  hadn't  heard  tell  that  Arad  burgled  his  own 
bank.  Did  he,  Ez?" 

"Wai,  no.  I  dunno  as  he  did,"  admitted  the 
much-wrought-upon  Mr.  Crouch,  who  had  never 
deposited  a  dollar  in  the  bank  in  all  his  shiftless 
career  and  probably  never  would.  "But  Arad's  re- 
sponserble,  ain't  he?" 

"I  cal'late,"  agreed  Tobias  mildly.  "Guess  we 
better  give  him  a  chance  to  straighten  things  out 


"I  guess  you  ain't  heard  much  about  it,  Tobias," 
interrupted  the  busy-tongued  Ezra.  "Something 
mighty  funny  about  this  robbery.  Arad  called  in 
all  the  money  he  could  an'  seemed  to  get  his  cash- 
drawer  crammed  with  it,  jest  so's  'twould  make  a 
good  haul  for  these  burglars.  A  hundred  and  forty 
thousand  dollars!  My!" 

"Does  seem  a  whole  lot  o'  money  to  take  chances 
with,"  admitted  Tobias. 

"Huh!  And  why  does  Arad,  fust-off,  telegraph 
to  some  feller  they  call  a  'bank  examiner'  and  get 
him  down  here  on  the  airly  train?  And  why  does 
he  shut  the  bank  up  as  tight  as  a  herrin'  can  and 
put  a  sign  on  the  door?  That's  what  /  want  to 
know." 

"Time'll  tell.  I  wouldn't  get  excited  if  I  was  you, 
Ez,"  advised  the  lightkeeper  soothingly. 


190  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Wai,  that  Arad  Thompson " 

"I  know.  We  got  to  watch  him — and  that  wheel 
chair.  Where  is  he?" 

"Inside.     In  his   office,"   snorted   Ezra   Crouch. 

"Smokin'  twenty-five  cent  see-gars  an'  takin'  it 
easy." 

"Looks  suspicious,"  agreed  Tobias,  his  eyes 
twinkling.  "These  times  it  does  seem  as  though  a 
feller  must  have  come  by  his  money  dishonest  if  he 
smokes  quarter  cigars.  Hullo,  Mr.  Compton !" 

Compton  kept  one  of  the  general  stores.  He  was 
a  bald-headed,  keen-eyed  man.  His  smile  was  rather 
grim  as  he  acknowledged  the  lightkeeper's  greeting. 

"Good-day,  Tobias.  What  you  and  Ezra  doing? 
Going  to  get  a  rope  and  pick  out  a  good  tree  for  a 
necktie  party?  To  hear  some  of  these  folks  talk 
you'd  think  Arad  had  robbed  his  own  self." 

"How  was  it  done  ?"  asked  Tobias. 

"Plain  to  be  seen.  Back  window  forced  from  the 
outside.  They  must  have  worked  a  long  time  on 
those  window-bars,  to  saw  'em  through.  But  they 
opened  the  safe  by  learning  the  combination." 

"Get  out!" 

"Fact.  Didn't  hurt  the  lock  none.  Either  they 
knew  the  combination  'fore  they  started  in,  or  they 
was  smart  enough  to  puzzle  it  out." 

"They  knowed  the  combination  because  they 
knowed  it,"  snorted  Ezra  Crouch  cryptically. 

"But  where  was  the  watchman?"  Tobias  asked. 


A  Clue  191 

"Doped,"  said  Compton.  "You  know  Bill  Pur 
vis  ?  Good  man,  but  never  any  too  smart.  Always 
keeps  his  lunch  basket  and  bottle  of  cold  tea  on  a 
beam  under  the  shed  back  of  the  post-office.  Every 
body  in  town  knew  'twas  there  and  that  Bill  took  a 
snack  about  'leven  o'clock,  or  a  little  later. 

"They  drugged  his  tea  last  night,  and  he  woke 
up  under  the  shed  just  before  four  o'clock  this 
morning.  He  see  the  bank  window  open  and  the 
bars  bent  up  and  he  ran  to  Arad's  house.  Arad 
telephoned  a  message  to  the  telegraph  operator  at 
the  station,  who  put  it  through  for  this  bank  ex 
aminer,  before  he  even  tucked  his  shirt  in,  so  they 
say." 

"Yep,"  ejaculated  the  suspicious  Mr.  Crouch. 
"Looks  mighty  like  Arad  knowed  the  bank  had 
been  robbed,  spang  off !" 

"He  could  easy  guess  it,"  said  Compton,  with  a 
dry  chuckle,  "considering  the  look  of  that  back 
window." 

"I  see,"  said  Tobias.  "Nobody  ever  could  ac 
cuse  Arad  Thompson  of  being  slow." 

"Oh,  he's  smart  enough,"  sneered  Ezra.  "That's 
what  we  all  air  worried  about."- 

The  lightkeeper  asked  the  storekeeper: 

"Mr.  Compton,  haven't  they  found  any  of  them 
there  clues  ye  read  about?  Burglars  always  leave 
clues,  don't  they?" 


192  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"There's  the  open  window  and  the  sawed  bars," 
returned  Compton. 

"Huh!"  sneered  the  sparrowlike  Ezra,  "they 
couldn't  very  well  take  'em  away  with  them,  could 
they?" 

Tobias  gave  him  no  further  heed. .  He  was 
"studying." 

"Mr.  Compton,"  he  said  again,  "I've  noticed 
them  winder  bars.  They  are  master  thick." 

"You  are  right,  Tobias." 

"Nobody  could  saw  through  one  of  them — not 
with  a  meat  saw — in  a  short  time.  And  I  have  read 
that  them  sort  of  saws  is  made  out  o'  watch  springs. 
Mighty  flimsy  they  must  be.  'Twouldn't  be  like 
cutting  cheese  with  a  dull  knife." 

"I  believe  you,  Tobias." 

"If  Bill  Purvis,"  went  on  the  lightkeeper  reflec 
tively,  "went  for  his  lunch  about  'leven,  then  them 
burglars  couldn't  have  been  sawin'  on  the  bars  much 
before  midnight.  Humph!  Let's  go  'round  there 
and  take  a  squint." 

Tobias  and  the  storekeeper,  with  Ezra  Crouch 
tagging  them,  entered  the  lane  between  the  bank 
building,  which  was  built  of  cement  blocks,  and  the 
post-office,  which  was  a  frame  structure.  The  win 
dow  in  question  overlooked  a  stableyard  at  the  back. 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,"  said  the  lightkeeper, 
"that  them  burglars  couldn't  have  worked  here  till 


A  Clue  193 

after  Bill  was  dead  to  the  world  in  that  shed  yonder. 
Else  he'd  have  seen  'em." 

"You're  right,  Tobias." 

"And  look  at  them  bars,"  continued  the  light- 
keeper.  "Ha'f  as  thick  as  my  wrist.  How'd  you 
like  to  stand  here — on  a  flimsy  box,  'tis  likely — and 
saw  away  at  them  two  bars?  For  how  long?  I 
cal'late  'twas  something  of  a  job.  'Twould  take 
more'n  one  hour — nor  yet  two!" 

"Uh-huh!"  agreed  the  storekeeper. 

"And  then  they  crawled  in  and  worked  on  the 
door  of  the  vault,  and  got  it  open.  Well,  well! 
That  must  have  taken  some  time,  too.  And  they 
got  clean  away  with  the  money  before  four  o'clock?" 

"They  worked  quick,"  said  Compton. 

"But  they  couldn't  work  quick  sawin'  them  bars. 
That  would  take  just  so  much  time,  however  smart 
they  was." 

"Well?" 

"Why,"  said  Tobias,  "I  don't  see  how  they  could 
have  done  it  all  in  one  night." 

Ezra  Crouch  laughed  raucously.  "O*  course  they 
done  it  last  night,"  he  said.  "If  they'd  cut  the  bars 
before,  somebody  would  have  seen  it." 

"Not  so  sure,"  Tobias  rejoined.  "I  give  it  as 
my  opinion  that  they  must  have  worked  here  before 
— mebbe  on  several  nights^  Almost  sawed  through 
the  bars  and  smutched  dirt  over  the  cracks  to  hide 
'em.  About  all  they  had  to  do  last  night  was  to 


194  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

force  the  bars  apart  after  Bill  was  asleep.  And  then 
they  got  in  and  worked  on  the  safe." 

"But  why  didn't  Bill  Purvis  see  'em  the  other 
nights?"  Compton  wanted  to  know. 

"Like  enough  because  he  was  sleeping  like  he  was 
last  night,"  Tobias  rejoined  promptly.  "Nobody 
had  to  drug  his  tea.  You  always  see  Bill  Purvis 
wanderin'  around  before  folks  go  to  bed.  But 
who  ever  kept  tabs  on  him  after  'leven  or  twelve 
o'clock?  I  cal'late  Bill  rolled  out  of  the  hay  this 
morning  'bout  his  usual  time  and  found  the  bank 
robbed." 

"I  swanny !"  murmured  Ezra. 

"It  might  be  like  you  say,  Tobias,"  agreed  Mr. 
Compton. 

"Yes.    It  might.    Huh!    What's  this?" 

The  lightkeeper  stooped  and  picked  something 
out  of  the  sand  just  under  the  forced  window.  It 
was  a  small,  flat,  gold  penknife.  There  were  a  few 
gold  links  attached  to  one  end.  It  had  been  torn 
from  a  watch  chain. 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,"  murmured  Tobias, 
"that  it  was  scraped  off  as  the  feller  worked  his  way 
in  over  that  winder-sill.  I  reckon,  Mr.  Compton, 
here  is  a  real  clue." 

"Huh!"  muttered  the  doubting  Ezra.  "I  don't 
believe  Arad  Thompson  ever  wore  that  dinky  little 
thing." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  exclaimed  the  amused  lightkeeper. 


A  Clue  195 

"I  don't  guess  Arad  was  anywhere  hereabout  when 
the  burglars  crawled  in  at  that  window.  And  he 
never  wore  this  here  doo-dad  on  his  watch  chain, 
nohow." 

He  shook  his  head,  staring  at  the  penknife  re 
flectively.  He  had  seen  that  knife — or  one  much 
like  it — before.  In  whose  possession? 

"Cal'late  I  better  see  Arad  about  this,"  he  said 
finally.  "When  the  perlice  come  to  take  holt  on 
this  case,  Arad  will  want  to  give  them  all  the  help 
he  can." 

"Then,"  said  Compton,  the  storekeeper,  with 
growing  admiration,  "you  don't  believe  this  robbery 
was  done  by  nary  couple  of  burglars  that  come  to 
town  last  night  and  got  clean  away  before  morn- 
ing?" 

"I  don't  know  about  their  getting  away,"  said 
Tobias.  "Maybe  it  would  be  well  to  look  about  to 
see  who's  missing.  But  these  burglars  must  have 
been  in  town  some  time  and  knowed  all  about  the 
bank  and  Bill  Purvis.  No  doubt  o'  that,  Mr.  Comp 
ton." 

"Wai,"  croaked  Ezra  Crouch,  his  eyes  like  big 
porcelain  buttons,  "who's  gone  away  since  last 
night?  /  dunno,  'less  'tis  old  Miz  Janey  Ring  that's 
gone  down  to  Harbor  Bar  to  visit  with  her  darter- 
in-law." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  snorted  Tobias. 

"And  it  ain't  sure  they  got  away  by  train,"  said 


196  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

the  storekeeper.  "Who  has  gone  out  by  boat,  or 
left  in  an  automobile?" 

"That's  what  I  say,"  Tobias  observed,  still  star 
ing  at  the  gold  knife.  "Maybe  them  burglars  ain't 
left  town  at  all.  No  tellin*.  Humph !  I  cal'late  I'd 
better  give  this  to  Arad." 

He  walked  to  the  side  door  of  the  bank — the  door 
opening  on  the  lane — and  punched  the  button. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

SUSPICIONS 

LORNA  NICHOLET  was  some  time  doing  Miss 
Ida's  marketing  on  this  morning.  When  she  finally 
came  out  of  the  butcher's  shop  and  started  for  her 
car  she  observed  Conny  Degger  sitting  on  the  Inn 
porch.  The  young  man  threw  away  his  cigarette 
and  started  up,  evidently  intending  to  greet  her. 

To  tell  the  truth,  Lorna  was  sorry  to  see  Degger. 
Just  at  this  time  she  did  not  crave  any  conversation 
with  him.  Had  Jackson  not  stepped  out  of  the  car 
and  crossed  over  the  way  to  join  the  crowd  before 
the  bank,  she  would  have  given  Degger  a  very  curt 
"good-morning"  and  told  the  chauffeur  to  drive 
home. ' 

She  did  not  know,  however,  that  she  had  any 
personal  reason  for  snubbing  Degger.  She  sighed, 
and  as  he  raised  his  cap  nonchalantly,  she  offered 
him  a  polite  smile. 

"At  last  something  has  struck  Clinkerport  to  wake 
it  up,  Miss  Lorna." 

His  bruised  face  was  much  more  presentable,  but 
the  two  missing  teeth  made  his  smile  sinister.  Lorna 
had  found  no  opportunity  to  question  Ralph  about 

197 


198  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

that  fight  before  he  had  gone  away.  She  knew  but 
one  side  of  the  story,  yet,  somehow,  she  failed  to 
make  herself  believe  that  Degger's  tale  had  been 
exact. 

The  insinuations — more,  the  direct  accusation — 
Degger  made  regarding  Ralph  and  the  Devine  girl 
seemed  less  reasonable  the  more  Lorna  thought 
about  it.  She  had  known  Ralph  ever  since  she  had 
known  anybody.  He  was  chivalrous  by  nature,  gen 
erous  to  a  fault,  kindly  of  motive,  and  always  the 
gentleman.  Might  not  these  very  attributes  of  char 
acter  have  led  him  into  some  entanglement  with  a 
designing  girl  that  the  latter  was  now  trying  to  take 
advantage  of?  What  Lorna  so  well  knew  of 
Ralph's  character  did  not  fit  the  college  reputation 
Degger  gave  him. 

Lorna's  ready  tongue  replied  with  little  hesitation 
to  Degger's  remark : 

"What  a  dreadful  thing!  If  the  depositors  have 
to  lose  any  of  their  money " 

"Oh,  if  the  bank  officers  were  up  to  date  they  car 
ried  burglary  insurance  enough  to  cover  the  loss." 

"But  a  hundred  and  forty  thousand  dollars!" 
•  Degger's  eyes  twinkled.  "Some  haul — I'll  say  it 
is !"  he  agreed.  "Those  yeggs  must  have  been  vastly 
astonished  when  they  found  all  that  in  the  safe.  No 
wonder  they  did  not  stop  to  tinker  with  the  post- 
office." 

"Oh !    Have  they  discovered  already  who  did  it?" 


Suspicions  199 

"Why,"  laughed  Dagger,  "of  course  the  bank 
people  and  the  local  police  are  running  around  in 
circles.  But  it  is  easy  to  understand  that  a  crack 
like  this  was  made  by  a  bunch  of  yeggs  who  prob 
ably  came  into  town  last  night  on  a  hand-car.  Usu 
ally  such  gangs  tap  both  the  bank  and  the  post-office 
in  such  a  burg  as  this.  But  the  bank  yielded  such 
a  harvest  they  left  the  P.O.  alone." 

"Did  nobody  see  or  hear  them?" 

"I  did  not,  anyway;  although  I  was  up  half  the 
night  with  a  toothache.  I  expect  I'll  have  to  run 
up  to  Boston  to  see  my  dentist.  He's  put  a  crown 
on  a  tooth  that  is  kicking  up  rusty. 

"I  was  up,  as  I  say,  more  than  once  during  the 
night  doctoring  that  tooth.  But  the  Inn  is  on  this 
side  of  the  street,  and  our  rooms — Lon  Burtwell's 
and  mine — are  at  the  back  of  the  hotel.  If  those 
yeggs  had  used  dynamite  to  blow  open  the  vault 
door  I  imagine  I  wouldn't  have  heard  it." 

"My!"  said  Lorna,  much  interested  after  all, 
"I  hope  the  poor  people  won't  have  to  lose  their 
money.  Just  think!  All  the  money  Tobias  and 
Heppy  Bassett  had  in  the  world  was  in  that  bank." 

"Yes?"  said  Degger  carelessly.  "But  the  fact 
that  the  bank  examiner  is  here  and  has  taken  charge 
doesn't  mean  anything  particular.  The  depositors 
needn't  be  so  frightened,  I  guess.  But  of  course  the 
bank  officers  can't  be  held  wholly  accountable  for  a 
burglary." 


200  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"But  you  said " 

"They  should  have  carried  burglary  insurance 
sufficient  to  cover  the  cash  in  hand — yes.  And  the 
Clinkerport  Bank  probably  does  belong  to  the  Amer 
ican  Bankers'  Association,  so  that  the  best  detectives 
in  the  country  will  be  sent  out  after  the  yeggs. 

"Still,  and  nevertheless,  every  bank  burglary  is 
not  satisfactorily  explained  nor  the  burglars  cap 
tured.  And  for  a  small  institution  like  this,  it  is  a 
big  loss." 

"I  am  thankful  we  didn't  have  much  on  account 
here,"  said  Lorna  reflectively.  "I  don't  know  about 
our  neighbors  on  Clay  Head.  Perhaps  the  Endi- 
cotts " 

"That  hard-boiled  egg,  Ralph  Endicott,  will  be 
half  crazy  if  he's  been  nipped  by  this,"  sneered  Deg- 
ger.  "If  he  had  money  in  the  bank  I  wonder  he 
isn't  over  here  now,  roaring  about  it." 

Lorna's  manner  changed. 

"Ralph  is  not  at  home,"  she  said  rather  tartly. 
"He  has  gone  away." 

"Indeed!    When  did  that  happen?" 

"He  went  yesterday." 

"Not  so  early,  I  guess,"  Degger  rejoined  confi 
dently.  "I  saw  him  here  last  evening." 

"In  town?" 

"Yes.  Fact  is,  I  saw  him  twice.  Once  about 
nine  and  again  an  hour  or  so  later.  I  was  sitting 
on  the  Inn  porch  and  saw  him  pass  the  bank  and 


Suspicions  201 

post-office  on  the  other  side  of  the  street.  He  went 
slouching  by  under  the  trees  there." 

"Why,  Mr.  Degger,  I  thought  he  left  town  in  the 
afternoon." 

"If  he  did  he  came  back  again.  Of  course,  I  did 
not  speak  to  him.  But  I  am  not  likely  to  make  a 
mistake  in  identifying  him,  wherever  I  see  him. 
And  he  couldn't  have  got  out  of  town  after  I  saw 
him,  come  to  think  of  it,  until  this  morning.  Not 
by  train;  for  there  are  no  trains  in  either  direction 
after  the  time  I  saw  him.  That's  sure." 

"That  is  strange,"  murmured  Lorna.  "I  am  sure 
the  family  thought  he  had  gone " 

She  noted  the  oddly  curious  gaze  Degger  had 
fixed  upon  her  face,  and  she  halted.  She  felt  un 
comfortable.  She  wondered  what  it  meant — this  odd 
performance  of  Ralph's.  She  wished  Jackson  would 
return  to  the  car.  But  somebody  did  break  away 
from  the  excited  crowd  before  the  bank  and  cross 
the  wide  thoroughfare  toward  the  automobile. 

Ezra  Crouch's  bald  face  shone  with  curiosity  and 
his  glance  shifted  from  Degger  to  the  girl  in  the 
car.  The  tale  that  Degger  himself  had  told  about 
town,  implicating  Lorna  Nicholet  and  Ralph  Endi- 
cott,  had  been  a  choice  morsel  under  Ezra's  tongue. 
He  thought  the  present  situation  pregnant  of  fur 
ther  gossip. 

"He,  he!  Ain't  this  a  queer  set-to?"  he  wanted 
to  know.  "Those  folks  that  have  lost  money  think 


2O2  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

they  can  talk  it  back  into  their  pockets.  I  can  tell 
'em " 

"Haven't  they  any  idea  who  the  burglars  were, 
Mr.  Crouch?"  interposed  Lorna. 

"Not  the  fust  idee.  'Nless  it's  Tobias.  Tobias 
is  sharp.  He's  found  the  only  clue,  as  they  call  it, 
that's  been  found  so  far.  But  that  Arad  Thomp 
son " 

"What  has  the  skipper  found,  Ezra?"  asked  Deg- 
ger,  lighting  another  cigarette. 

"A  gold  knife..  Found  it  right  under  that  winder 
where  the  burglars  sawed  through  the  bars." 

"A  gold  knife!"  repeated  Lorna  with  interest. 
"They  surely  did  not  use  such  a  tool  to  cut  the 
window  bars?" 

"Bless  ye,  no,  Miss  Lorny !  But  'tis  evident — an' 
so  Tobias  says — that  one  o'  the  burgulars  tore  it  off 
his  watch  chain  when  he  scrambled  in  over  the  win 
der-sill." 

"Oh!  It  was  a  gold  penknife?  And  he  wore 
it  on  a  watch  chain  like " 

Again  she  halted  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence.  She 
paled  and  then  flushed,  flashing  a  sly  glance  at  Deg- 
ger.  He  seemed  not  to  have  noticed  what  she  said. 
He  was  not  even  looking  at  her. 

"Oh!"  she  whispered  again,  and  was  .glad  that 
Jackson  saw  her  waiting  and  that  he  hurried  back 
to  the  car. 


Suspicions  203 

"Good-day,  Mr.  Degger.  Good-day,  Mr.  Crouch," 
she  said,  as  Jackson  got  in  and  started  the  engine. 

Lorna  did  not  show  Degger  her  face  again.  She 
continued  to  think  about  that  gold  penknife  that  had 
been  found  under  the  bank  window.  Ralph  Endi- 
cott  wore  such  a  knife  on  his  watch  chain.  And 
Degger  said  he  had  seen  Ralph  in  town  last  even 
ing — long  after  he  was  supposed  to  have  left  Clink- 
erport  by  train. 

Of  course,  any  thought  linking  Ralph  with  the 
mysterious  penknife  was  ridiculous.  It  could  not 
be  that  the  most  evil-intentioned  tongue  would  dove 
tail  Ralph's  movements  with  the  Clinkerport  Bank 
robbery.  Yet — Lorna  did  not  trust  Conway 
Degger ! 

What  would  Degger  say,  in  his  sneering  way,  if 
he  learned  the  Endicotts  were  impoverished  and 
that  Ralph  probably  had  very  little  money  left? 

Ralph  had  been  seen  by  Degger  in  the  village  late 
the  previous  evening — too  late  to  have  left  town 
by  train  thereafter.  Suppose  that  awful  Devine  girl 
was  pressing  Ralph  for  money  and  threatening  to 
disgrace  him  if  he  did  not  produce  it? 

Was  that  why  Ralph  had  left  home  so  suddenly 
and  mysteriously?  Did  he  fear  disgrace?  Was  it 
because  he  could  not  satisfy  Cora  Devine,  and  so 
close  her  lips? 

If  Degger's  story  of  Ralph's  misstep  should  be 
true!  Supposing  Degger  knew  Ralph  was  being 


2O4  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

hounded  for  money  he  could  not  pay,  what  would 
he  say  if  Ralph  was  in  the  most  remote  way  linked 
by  suspicion  to  the  bank  robbery? 

Tobias  Bassett  meanwhile  had  gained  entrance  to 
the  bank  after  some  parley  with  Rafe  Silver,  Mr. 
Thompson's  Portuguese  servant.  Arad  Thompson 
had  been  skipper  of  a  smart  bark  in  his  youth  and 
had  brought  Silver  back  from  Fayal  with  him  on 
one  of  his  voyages.  Silver  was  a  grim  little  man, 
black  as  aged  mahogany,  thin-lipped  and  gray  of 
hair,  wearing  tiny  gold  rings  in  his  ears. 

"This  ain't  nothing  to  do  with  my  money,  Rafe," 
Tobias  said.  "You  tell  Arad  Thompson  I  have 
something  to  tell  him  about  them  burglars." 

So,  after  a  time,  the  lightkeeper  was  admitted. 
Two  pale-faced  and  scared  looking  clerks  were  at 
the  beck  and  call  of  the  bank  auditor.  The  other 
employees  of  the  institution,  like  the  general  public, 
were  shut  out  of  the  building. 

In  the  railed-off  enclosure  he  used  as  an  office,  and 
where  he  met  the  bank's  customers,  Arad  Thompson 
sat  in  the  wheel  chair,  in  which  he  spent  most  of  his 
waking  hours,  before  his  table-topped  desk. 

He  was  a  big-bodied  man,  his  torso  quite  filling 
the  wide-armed  chair.  His  withered  limbs  were 
hidden  by  a  soft  robe,  the  upper  edge  of  which  was 
never  allowed  to  fall  below  his  waistline. 

He  was  a  handsome  man  of  a  patriarchal  cast  of 


Suspicions  205 

countenance,  his  genial  expression  enhanced  by 
waving  silvery  hair  and  a  heavy  beard  of  the  same 
color — that  silvery  hue  which  revealed  the  fact  that 
originally  the  hair  of  head  and  face  had  been  jet 
black. 

With  his  ruddy  cheeks  and  sharp  gray  eyes,  the 
bank  president  gave  abundant  evidence  of  possessing, 
aside  from  his  crippled  limbs,  a  healthy  body  and 
a  thoroughly  alert  brain.  Arad  Thompson  had  been 
studying  a  little  red-covered  memorandum  book. 
He  laid  it  aside  as  Tobias  came  near. 

"Well,  Tobias,"  he  asked  directly,  "what  is  it? 
I  can  answer  no  question  about  the  bank  or  its  loss 
until  the  bank  examiner  makes  his  report." 

"Not  to  say  I  ain't  anxious  for  me  an'  Heppy's 
money — for  I  be.  But  I  will  say,  Mr.  Thompson, 
that  'tain't  about  that  I  want  to  see  you." 

"So  Rafe  tells  me." 

"I  was  wandering  around  back  of  the  bank  there 
just  now  with  Silas  Compton.  We  looked  at  the 
winder  where  them  bars  was  sawed.  I  give  it  as 
my  opinion,  Mr.  Thompson,  that  them  burglars 
didn't  saw  them  bars  in  two  in  one  night — nossir!" 

"I  had  thought  of  that,  Tobias,"  said  the  bank 
president  patiently. 

"Don't  look  like  it  was  just  a  gang  of  burglars 
that  come  in  here  last  night  for  the  first  time  and 
happened  to  hit  it  lucky." 


206  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"No.  I  am  convinced  they  had  advice,  if  not  as 
sistance,  in  turning  the  trick." 

"Maybe  you  got  your  suspicions  of  who  helped 
'em?"  said  Tobias  shrewdly. 

"If  I  have  I'm  not  going  to  tell  you,  Tobias." 

"I  don't  want  you  should — nossir!"  said  the  light- 
keeper.  "I'd  just  as  lief  not  know.  But  I  am 
going  to  show  you  what  I  picked  up  under  that 
winder  just  now.  Compton  and  Ez  Crouch  seen 
me." 

The  bank  president  sat  up  straighten  He  flashed 
a  glance  at  the  little  red  book.  Then  he  looked 
again  at  Tobias. 

"What  is  it?" 

The  lightkeeper  brought  his  hand  out  of  his 
pocket  and  displayed  the  gold  penknife. 

"You  picked  that  up  under  the  window?" 

"Yes." 

"Any  mark  on  it  ?  Anything  whereby  the  owner 
can  be  identified?  Do  you  know,  Tobias,  who  it 
belongs  to?" 

"Oh,  sugar!"  declared  Tobias.  "It  might  not 
have  been  lost  by  one  of  the  burglars.  Then 
again " 

Thompson  took  the  knife,  opened  the  blade,  and 
turned  the  little  toy  over  and  over  on  his  palm. 

"Of  course,"  he  murmured,  "there  might  be  a 
dozen  men  wearing  things  like  this  on  their  watch 
chains " 


Suspicions  207 

"Not  here  in  Clinkerport,"  interposed  Tobias. 

"No.  That's  so.  But  there  is  no  identifying 
mark." 

"Look  at  the  chain.  Drefful  fine  links,  but  awful 
strong." 

"It  is  platinum.  An  expensive  chain.  Not  likely, 
after  all,  to  be  worn  by  many." 

"That  kind  of  narrows  suspicion  down,  doesn't 
it?"  said  Tobias  with  some  eagerness. 

"It  must.  A  platinum  watch  chain  costs  a  deal 
of  money,  Tobias.  There  must  be  an  excellent 
watch  at  the  other  end  of  the  chain.  No  ordinary 
person  would  be  likely  to  wear  such  an  ornament. 
These  burglars " 

"Maybe  they  stole  it,"  suggested  Tobias. 

Thompson  looked  at  the  red  book  again.  He 
wagged  his  bushy  head,  and  sat,  tight-lipped  and 
thoughtful. 

"That  is  possible,"  he  finally  agreed.  "But  if 
the  knife  and  the  few  links  of  chain  can  be 
traced " 

"  'Tis  a  clue,"  Tobias  said.  "Looks  like  some 
body  might  be  in  this  job  who  wasn't  just  an  ordin 
ary  burglar.  Heh?" 

"I'll  allow  that,  Tobias." 

"Well,  that  is  all  I  had  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Thompson. 
I  reckon  you'll  give  the  knife  to  the  city  detectives 
when  they  come?" 

"Naturally.    I  will  put  all  possible  clues  into  their 


208  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

hands,"  the  bank  president  rejoined,  glancing  again 
at  the  little  red  book. 

"Course,  there  may  be  nothing  to  it.  But  who 
else  could  have  lost  that  knife  there  without  making 
talk  about  it — advertised  the  loss,  as  ye  might  say?" 

"True,"  agreed  Thompson. 

"Probably  it  belongs  to  somebody  who  is  kind  of 
a  fancy  dresser.  No  ordinary  longshore  clam  digger 
would  own  such  a  thing.  I  give  it  as  my  opinion 
that  it  might  have  been  lost  by  some  feller — who 
ever  he  was — that  has  been  hangin'  around  the  port 
long  enough  this  summer  to  1'arn  all  them  burglars 
wanted  to  know  about  the  bank,  and  the  watchman, 
and  all-  Heh?" 

"Sounds  reasonable,  Tobias." 

"I  cal'late.  And  he  must  be  one  of  the  summer 
folks." 

"That  is  so,  too.  Whom  do  you  suspect,  Tobias?" 

The  lightkeeper  grinned.     He  wagged  his  head. 

"Oh,  sugar!"  he  said,  paying  Arad  Thompson 
back  in  his  own  coin.  "If  I  am  suspecting  anybody, 
I  ain't  going  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Thompson.  Nossir !" 


CHAPTER  XX 

PUT  TO   THE  QUESTION 

TOBIAS  had  more  than  satisfied  his  curiosity  in 
coming  to  town.  His  discovery  of  the  gold  penknife 
was  the  sum  of  the  assistance  he  could  give  Arad 
Thompson,  the  bank's  president,  at  this  time.  His 
interest  in  the  burglary,  however,  continued  to  be 
keen;  but  he  went  back  to  the  Twin  Rocks  Light 
soon  after  noon. 

He  could  take  little  cheer  to  Heppy.  For  just 
how  much  the  depositors  of  the  bank  must  suffer 
because  of  the  loss  of  the  hundred  and  forty  thou 
sand  dollars,  Tobias  had  no  idea.  Nobody  with 
whom  he  talked  seemed  to  know.  All  were  pes 
simistic. 

"Looks  like  something  was  the  trouble  besides 
just  the  burglary,"  croaked  one  bird  of  ill-omen, 
perched  like  a  buzzard  on  the  horse  rack  before  Silas 
Compton's  store.  "Else  Arad  would  have  sent  for 
some  cash  from  somewhere  and  gone  on  with  busi 
ness,  same  as  usual.  This  shutting  the  bank  tight's 
a  drum " 

"They  say  it's  the  new  bankin'  law  done  it,"  in 
terposed  somebody. 

209 


> 

2io  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Dunno.  Don't  look  right.  If  the  bank's  rotten 
we'd  ought  to  have  a  chance  to  get  what  money  we 
can  out  of  it." 

"That's  right !    'Fore  we  lose  it  all." 

"Guess  it's  all  gone  by  now,"  groaned  another. 

"Say!"  observed  Tobias,  after  listening  to  this 
talk  for  some  time,  "I  give  it  as  my  opinion  Arad 
Thompson  is  a  purty  slick  citizen.  He  was  smart 
to  get  that  bank  examiner  here — no  two  ways  about 
it !  Otherwise  there  would  have  been  a  run  on  the 
bank.  We'd  all  have  been  crazy  to  try  to  get  our 
money." 
.  "Why  shouldn't  we  get  it?  It's  our'n." 

"Wai,"  Tobias  said  slowly.  "I  don't  s'pose  Arad 
can  call  all  his  loans  in  on  the  dot.  Nossir !  Why 
should  we  expect  him  to  pay  us  just  whenever  we 
want  it — all  in  a  lump?" 

The  lightkeeper  could  study  out  the  reason  for 
the  bank  president's  attitude  and  logically  come  to 
the  conclusion  he  did.  Arad  Thompson  knew  Clink- 
erport  folk  well.  Suspicion  would  be  rife  in  any 
case  and  the  moment  announcement  was  made  of 
the  robbery  many  would  rail  against  his  manage 
ment  of  the  bank's  funds.  The  president  was  taking 
no  chances. 

Without  a  penny  of  cash  left  in  the  bank,  the 
depositors  would  have  been  clamoring  at  the  cage 
windows  like  wolves  had  the  doors  not  remained 
barred. 


Put  to  the  Question  211 

There  were  those  people,  too,  who  had  "inside 
information."  There  are  always  these  "know-it- 
alls"  in  every  community. 

"No  use  trying  to  smooth  it  over,  Tobias,"  whis 
pered  one  of  these  to  the  lightkeeper.  "There's 
something  fishy  about  Arad's  bank.  I  ain't  got  a 
cent  in  it — never  would  put  any  in.  I  always  have 
had  my  suspicions  of  Arad  Thompson. 

"But  Phil  Henry  is  my  next-door  neighbor,  an' 
Phil  Henry  is  cashier.  He  ain't  been  let  into  the 
bank  this  morning  no  more  than  the^other  officers. 
And  Phil  told  me  that  right  lately  Arad's  been  get 
ting  his  hands  on  all  the  cash  he  could.  Mebbe  he 
did  have  as  much  as  a  hundred  and  forty  thousand 
there." 

"Wai?"  proposed  Tobias,  unshaken. 

"Drat  it  all,  Tobe?  Don't  you  see?  Or  won't 
ye?  Mebbe  there  ain't  been  no  real  burglary  at  all. 
Looks  funny.  They  say  the  vault  door  was  opened 
on  the  combination.  That  'twasn't  busted." 

"Huh?" 

"Arad  just  says  there  was  a  burglary.  S'pose 
he'd  arranged  for  somebody  to  saw  them  bars  on 
the  sly  and  bust  the  winder-lock  and  drug  Bill 
Purvis's  tea?  Heh?  S'pose  Arad  robbed  the  bank 
hisself?" 

"Oh,  sugar!"  murmured  Tobias.  "That's  what 
they  all  say.  Why  don't  you  suggest  something 
new?" 


212  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"All  right!  All  right!  Don't  you  believe  it, 
Tobe,"  said  his  acquaintance.  "You  will  remember 
what  I  told  ye  when  you  don't  see  hide  nor  hair  of 
your  money  again." 

"I  don't  see  it  now,"  confessed  Tobias  rather  rue 
fully.  "But  I  still  have  hopes  of  Arad's  being  pretty 
average  honest." 

He  found  Heppy  one  of  the  most  pessimistic  of 
all  those  affected  by  or  interested  in  the  bank  bur 
glary.  She  was  actually  ill.  Whether  it  was  the 
excitement  or  the  over-exertion  of  climbing  the 
lighthouse  stairs  to  the  lamp  room,  the  woman  gave 
every  indication  of  bodily  as  well  as  of  mental 
illness. 

She  sat  in  her  rocking  chair  before  the  kitchen 
stove,  weaving  back  and  forth,  and  sobbing.  When 
she  raised  her  head  to  look  at  her  brother  as  he  en 
tered,  he  was  actually  startled  by  her  appearance. 

"Oh,  sugar,  Heppy!    What's  the  matter  o'  ye?" 

"Did — did  you  get  our  money,  Tobias?"  she 
gasped. 

"No,  no !  O'  course  not.  Things  have  got  to  be 
straightened  out." 

"Did  you  see  Arad  Thompson?" 

"Yes.    I  talked  personally  with  him,  Heppy." 

"What  did  he  say?"  urged  the  woman. 

"Why,  he  couldn't  say  nothin'  yet.  Not  till  the 
bank's  books  was  gone  over.  It's  bein'  done." 

"Tobias,  that's  only  an  excuse.     We'll  never  see 


'Oh,  sug-ar,  Heppy!     What's  the  matter  o'  ye?" 

(See  Page  212) 


Put  to  the  Question  213 

a  penny  of  our  money  again !"  And  his  sister  broke 
into  passionate  sobs. 

"Dad  fetch  it!"  ejaculated  Tobias,  "I  give  it  as 
my  opinion  that  there  ain't  never  been  such  a  una 
nimity  of  opinion  on  one  subject  in  this  community 
since  Noah  stepped  ashore  from  the  ark.  You  folks 
have  got  it  all  settled  that  Arad  Thompson  is  so 
crooked  that  he  can't  lay  straight  in  bed.  Oh, 
sugar!" 

It  was  a  very  gloomy  afternoon  and  evening  at 
the  Twin  Rocks  Light.  The  men  got  what  little 
supper  there  was.  Heppy  went  to  bed  still  weeping 
and  with  a  hot  brick  at  her  feet. 

"An'  I  give  it  as  my  opinion,  'Zekiel,"  said  the 
lightkeeper  to  the  younger  man,  with  frank  disgust 
in  his  tone,  "that  Heppy  can  think  with  that  hot 
brick  just  as  good  as  she  can  with  her  head.  There 
ain't  no  mortal  sense  in  her  fussin'  and  fumin'  the 
way  she  does." 

"But,  Tobias!  if  the  money  is  gone?" 

"Oh,  sugar!"  snorted  Tobias.  "Mourning  over 
it  won't  bring  our  money  back.  If  we've  got  to 
lose  it,  we've  got  to — that's  all." 

"But — eight — thousand — dollars !" 

"I  know.  You  say  it  like  'twas  eight  hundred 
thousand.  But  neither  sum  seems  to  mean  so  much 
to  me — not  re'lly.  I  sure  won't  lose  no  sleep  over  it 
— nor  ary  meal  o'  victuals,  if  I  can  help  it. 

"  'What  can't  be  cured  must  be  endured,'  "  re- 


214  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

peated  this  longshore  philosopher.  "I  never  re'lly 
felt  that  I  had  much  part  nor  lot  in  our  savings. 
Once  I  was  in  New  Bedford  when  some  whalers 
was  paid  off  after  a  four-year  cruise.  A  drunken 
boat  steerer  stood  on  the  corner  of  the  street  an' 
fed  silver  dollars  into  the  mouth  of  a  sewer  till 
the  police  stopped  him. 

"Puttin'  money  in  the  bank  always  seemed  to 
me  something  like  that,  'Zekiel.  You  see  it  go  in, 
but  where  it  goes  to,  an'  what  happens  to  it,  is  like 
what  the  Scriptures  says  about  the  ways  of  the  Al 
mighty — they  are  'past  rinding  out.' ' 

"Huh !"  said  Zeke.  "Looks  like  we  know  what's 
happened  to  this  money.  'Twas  stole  by  somebody." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  murmured  Tobias.  "Is  that  any 
satisfaction?" 

Tobias  Bassett  had  refused  to  admit  to  Arad 
Thompson  that  he  had  any  suspicion  as  to  the  iden 
tity  of  the  owner  of  the  gold  penknife  he  had  found 
under  the  bank  window.  Nor  did  he  have  such  sus 
picion. 

It  was  merely  that  the  old  lightkeeper  felt  that 
sometime,  somewhere,  he  had  seen  such  a  toy  worn 
on  a  watch  chain  by  somebody  he  knew.  Unlike 
Lorna  Nicholet  he  did  not  remember  that  Ralph 
Endicott  owned  such  an  ornament. 

The  young  woman  rode  home  from  her  market 
ing  expedition  in  a  very  anxious  condition  of  mind. 
One  moment  she  mentally  castigated  herself  for  con- 


Put  to  the  Question  215 

sidering  at  all  the  suggestion  that  the  penknife  might 
be  Ralph's  property.  The  next  instant  the  suspicion 
would  attack  her  from  another  angle  and  his  pos 
sible  connection  with  the  bank  burglary  would  ex 
pand  until  she  was  fairly  terror-stricken. 

If  Ralph  had  been  seen  in  the  town  the  previous 
evening  by  other  eyes  than  those  of  Conway  Deg- 
ger!  If  Ralph  had  seemed  to  leave  Clinkerport  in 
the  afternoon,  how  explain  his  later  presence  there? 

If  Degger  thought  he  could  cast  any  reflection 
upon  Ralph  by  reporting  his  observation  of  the  lat 
ter  in  town  the  night  of  the  burglary,  of  course  he 
would  do  so.  There  was  no  doubt  of  that  in 
Lorna's  mind.  She  had  no  longer  any  illusions  re 
garding  the  character  of  Degger,  no  matter  how 
much  she  might  disapprove  of  Ralph.  Degger  was 
Ralph's  enemy,  and  a  bitter  enemy  indeed. 

Innocent  men  have  fallen  under  the  burden  of 
false  accusation,  often  and  again.  Several  things 
seemed  to  yield  circumstantial  evidence  connecting 
the  bank  robbery  with  Ralph  Endicott,  ridiculous 
as  such  evidence  must  be  to  the  minds  of  those  who 
really  knew  him. 

If  the  penknife  was  his — or  like  the  one  he  wore,} 
If  he  really  had  returned  to  Clinkerport  secretly  last 
evening!  If  it  was  a  fact  that  Cora  Devine  was 
hounding  Ralph  for  money!  And  if,  as  Lorna  sup 
posed,  the  Endicotts  were  in  financial  straits  and 
Ralph  was  without  funds! 


216  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

These  suppositions  and  possibilities  wrought  upon 
the  young  woman's  mind  until,  when  she  arrived 
home,  she  found  it  almost  impossible  to  hide  from 
the  family  her  perturbation.  Her  father  had  not 
yet  returned  from  Boston.  Had  he  been  at  home 
she  would  have  put  her  fears  and  suspicions  before 
him. 

For,  after  all,  John  Nicholet  bred  a  greater  con 
fidence  in  his  daughter's  mind  and  heart  than  did  the 
self-repressed  Miss  Ida.  With  the  latter  Lorna 
could  not  bring  herself  to  discuss  the  mystery  of 
Ralph  Endicott's  affairs. 

She  gave  to  her  aunt  the  bald  statement  of  the 
bank's  loss,  and  that  was  all.  But  Lorna  felt  that 
she  must  search  and  find  all  she  could  that  might 
explain  the  mystery  which,  like  a  haze,  surrounded 
Ralph's  absence  from  home. 

She  went  to  Jerome,  the  Endicott's  doddering  old 
servant  whom  the  professor's  "Cousin  Luce,"  who 
was  supposed  to  preside  over  the  household,  was 
forever  threatening  to  pension  off. 

Miss  Ida  had  scornfully  stated  that  "Lucy  Mark- 
ham  ran  the  Endicott  house  by  fits  and  starts — the 
fits  being  frequent  and  the  starts  but  seldom!"  a 
statement  which  was  scarcely  a  libel.  If  Cousin  Luce 
did  not  feel  like  leaving  her  bed,  or  had  a  more  than 
usually  interesting  novel  to  read,  she  remained  un 
seen  by  the  family,  sometimes  for  a  couple  of  days. 


Put  to  the  Question  217 

But  the  family  somehow  muddled  along  without 
her. 

Ralph  was  too  old  to  lose  much  by  the  lack  of 
system  in  the  home.  And  of  course  Professor  Eti- 
dicott  did  not  even  notice  when  household  matters* 
went  wrong.  The  children  helped  each  other,  and 
somehow  were  happy. 

As  it  chanced,  Mrs.  Markham  was  not  visible 
when  Lorna  made  her  appearance  at  the  Endicott 
house.  Whether  it  was  a  new  novel  or  a  twinge 
of  rheumatism  that  kept  Cousin  Luce  in  her  room 
Lorna  did  not  inquire.  An  interview  with  Pro 
fessor  Endicott,  had  she  wished  it,  was  quite  out 
of  the  question,  for  he  was  deep  in  his  experiments. 

"Jerome,"  said  Lorna  to  the  old  servant,  "do  you 
know  if  Ralph  lost  that  little  gold  penknife  that  he 
wears  on  the  end  of  his  watch  chain?" 

"No,  Miss.  I  do  not  know.  Was  it  lately  he 
lost  it?" 

"That  is  what  I  wish  to  know.  Did  he  lose  it?" 

"I  couldn't  say,  Miss.  He  said  nothing  about 
losing  it  to  me." 

"Then  it  is  pretty  sure  he  did  not  lose  it  before 
he  went  away  yesterday — if  he  lost  it  at  all,"  mur 
mured  the  young  woman  thoughtfully.  "You* 
would  probably  have  missed  it  yourself,  Jerome." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  Miss.  I  don't  have 
much  to  do  with  Master  Ralph's  things.  No,  Miss. 
Maybe  Mrs.  Malloy " 


218  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

But  the  housekeeper  knew  no  more  than  Jerome. 
Lorna  dared  go  no  further  with  her  inquiries.  She 
feared  that  she  might  rouse  suspicion  in  the  minds 
of  the  servants. 

She  heard  nothing  more  about  the  bank  burglary 
that  day,  or  what  was  being  done  regarding  it. 
She  spent  a  most  miserable  night.  By  morning  she 
could  not  longer  remain  idle  in  the  matter.  She 
felt  that  she  must  confer  with  somebody  and  she 
started  for  the  Twin  Rocks  Light.  Lorna  wanted 
to  learn  if  Tobias  Bassett  likewise  suspected  that 
the  gold  penknife  he  had  found  belonged  to  Ralph. 

Although  the  time  was  mid-forenoon,  Tobias  was 
smoking  his  pipe  on  the  bench  outside  the  lighthouse 
door.  And  he  wore  one  of  Miss  Heppy's  volumin 
ous  kitchen  aprons. 

"Why,  Mr.  Bassett!  what  is  the  matter?" 

"Oh,  sugar!  That  you,  Lorny?  I've  been  pro 
moted  to  be  chief  pot-walloper  of  this  here  craft. 
'Zekiel  is  aloft,  cleaning  the  lamp." 

"But  Miss  Heppy?" 

"She's  abed.  I  cal'late  she's  down  for  a  spell  o' 
suthin',  I  dunno  what  'tis,  and  I  reckon  she  don't. 
But  whatever  'tis  it's  struck  in." 

"Tobias !  She  is  not  really  ill !" 

/'She's  sick  enough,"  he  rejoined,  shaking  an 
anxious  head.  "Bein'  sick  is  mostly  in  your  mind, 
it  always  did  seem  to  me.  If  your  mind  ain't  ready 
for  doctorin'  you  manage  to  keep  on  deck  and 


Put  to  the  Question  219 

muddle  through  somehow.  But  once  your  mind  gets 
sick,  you  lose  all  holts.  And  Heppy's  lost  all  holts 
this  time,  I  do  allow.  She  thinks  she  won't  never 
see  none  o'  that  money  we  had  in  the  Clinkerport 
Bank  again — never!  And  it's  just  about  scuttled 
the  ship  for  her — yessir!" 

"But,  Tobias!  of  course  the  bank  isn't  bankrupt. 
There  will  be  no  great  loss  for  each  individual  de 
positor." 

"We  dunno  that.  Dunno  much  of  anything  about 
it.  I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  it  looks  queer.  And, 
as  I  said  afore,  Heppy's  gin  up  all  hope." 

"Oh,  that  is  too  bad!"  Lorna  said.  "I  must  see 
her.  Is  she  alone?" 

"Ain't  no  women  folks  around,  if  that's  what 
you  mean.  'Zekiel  and  me  air  the  whole  crew  and 
afterguard.  The  captain's  forsook  the  ship." 

Lorna  hesitated  before  going  into  the  lighthouse, 
staring  down  at  the  rather  despondent  looking 
Tobias.  She  spurred  her  courage  to  ask : 

"I  am  told  that  you  found  a  penknife  under  the 
bank  window  that  may  have  been  dropped  by  one 
of  the  burglars." 

"So  I  did,"  replied  Tobias  placidly. 

"Do  you  really  think  it  was  lost  by  one  of  the 
robbers?" 

"Likely.  Don't  see  how  else  it  would  have  got 
there." 

"Have  you  no  idea  who  the  owner  is  ?" 


22O  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

The  lightkeeper  wrinkled  up  his  eyes  shrewdly 
and  stared  at  her.  He  removed  the  pipe  from  his 
mouth. 

"I  don't  count  a  wide  acquaintance  among  bur 
glars  and  such,  Miss  Lorny." 

"But — but  it  might  not  belong  to  a  burglar!" 

"Sure  enough.  Who  do  you  cal'late  it  might 
belong  to?" 

"Oh!"  she  exclaimed.  "I — I — why  do  you  ask 
that?"  Then,  her  eyes  searching  the  highway  in 
the  direction  of  Clinkerport,  she  cried :  "Who  is 
this  coming,  Tobias?" 

He  turned  from  her  to  stare  at  the  blue  motor 
car  approaching.  He  still  held  his  pipe  at  a  re 
flective  poise,  for  Lorna's  evident  disturbance  of 
mind  had  impressed  him. 

"Oh,  sugar!"  he  murmured.  "This  here  is  Arad 
Thompson's  car.  You  don't  s'pose  he's  come  to 
bring  me  and  Heppy  our  money,  do  you?  It  'ud 
please  Heppy  purt'  nigh  to  death." 


CHAPTER  XXI 


LORNA  NICHOLET  made  no  further  comment, 
waiting  anxiously  for  the  big  blue  limousine  to 
approach.  Surely  it  would  stop  before  the  light 
house. 

It  did.  The  door  of  the  car  opened.  But  the 
crippled  Arad  Thompson  did  not  appear.  Instead, 
a  broad-hatted  stranger  in  a  rusty  black  suit  stepped 
out  of  the  car. 

"That's  Rafe  Silver  driving,  as  usual,"  murmured 
Tobias.  "But  who  is  this  fellow?  He  ain't  no 
acquaintance  of  mine." 

The  stranger  came  promptly  to  the  lighthouse 
door.  He  glanced  sharply  from  the  lightkeeper 
sitting  on  the  bench  with  his  pipe  to  the  young 
woman  in  the  doorway,  and  back  again. 

"You  are  Mr.  Tobias  Bassett?"  was  his  opening 
speech. 

"I  cal'late." 

"Mr.  Arad  Thompson  has  sent  me  to  you  for 
some  information." 

"I'm  chock-full  of  it,"   rejoined  Tobias  easily, 

221 


222  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

putting  his  pipe  between  his  lips  again  and  waving 
his  hand. 

"Confidential  information,"  continued  the  man, 
glancing  again  at  Lorna. 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Tobias.  "This  young 
woman  knows  almost  as  much  as  I  do,  and  a  little 
extry  information  won't  hurt  her  a  mite.  What 
was  you  lookin'  to  find  out?" 

"My  inquiry  is  in  regard  to  the  robbery  of  the 
Clinkerport  Bank  night  before  last." 

He  threw  back  the  left  lapel  of  his  coat  with  a 
practiced  gesture,  revealing  a  glittering  badge  pinned 
near  the  armhole  of  his  vest. 

"Oh,  sugar!"  murmured  Tobias.  "A  real  detec 
tive?  I  cal'late  I'm  pinched." 

Lorna  dropped  a  fluttering  hand  upon  his  shoul 
der,  but  then  saw  that  the  old  lightkeeper  was  still 
smiling  cheerfully. 

"You  fire  ahead,  Mister." 

"Did  you  ever  see  this  knife  before  you  picked  it 
up  under  the  bank  window?"  and  the  detective  dis 
played  the  toy  in  his  palm. 

"Oh,  sugar!  Can't  say  as  I  did.  And  yet  I 
might.  Seems  to  me — wal,  I  cal'late  I  better  say 
no  and  be  done  with  it.  I  can't  somehow  seem  to 
place  that  thing,"  declared  the  lightkeeper,  in  deep 
reflection. 

He  did  not  notice  Lorna's  expression  of  coun 
tenance. 


The  Rising  Tide  of  Doubt         223 

"I  hope  you  will  not  withhold  your  opinion,  Mr. 
Bassett,"  said  the  detective. 

"You  take  it  from  me,  Mister,"  Tobias  rejoined 
grimly,  "I  ain't  going  to  refuse  any  information 
that  may  lead  to  the  recovery  of  the  bank's  money 
and  the  arrest  of  the  burglars.  Me  and  Heppy's 
got  an  eight  thousand  dollar  interest  in  the  robbery, 
as  ye  might  say." 

"You  are  prepared  to  help  us,  then,  no  matter 
who  is  hit,  are  you?" 

"I  cal'late,"  agreed  Tobias  wonderingly. 

The  detective  produced  a  little  red-covered  note 
book  from  his  pocket.  He  thrust  it  toward  the 
lightkeeper. 

"Did  you  ever  see  this  before?" 

"I  don't  know.  Can't  be  sure  that  I  ever  did. 
But,  mebbe." 

"This  address  book  was  found  on  a  ledge  right 
by  the  vault  door.  There  seems  to  be  no  doubt  as 
to  whom  it  belongs,  for  the  owner's  name  in  his 
own  handwriting  is  on  the  fly-leaf.  Mr.  Thompson 
is  quite  convinced  of  the  ownership  of  the  book,  for 
there  are  specimens  of  the  same  handwriting  on  file 
in  the  bookkeeping  department  of  the  bank." 

"My  goodness!"  gasped  Tobias,  staring  at  the 
book  but  refusing  to  take  it  from  the  other's  hand. 

"This  book  could  not  have  been  on  the  ledge 
where  it  was  found  at  the  time  the  bank  closed  day 
before  yesterday.  The  vault  door  was  opened  on 


224  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

the  combination.  And  the  combination  is  written 
on  one  of  the  pages  of  this  address  book." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  murmured  Tobias.  "Then  you've 
just  as  good  as  got  one  of  the  burglars,  ain't  you?" 

"Oh,  no!"  gasped  Lorna,  cowering  in  the  door 
way. 

The  men  did  not  appear  to  notice  her  agitation. 
Tobias  still  smoked  calmly.  The  detective  hesitated 
for  a  moment  before  he  fairly  forced  the  red  mem 
orandum  book  into  the  lightkeeper's  hand. 

"Look  at  it,"  he  said.  "See  that  name  on  the 
front  page?  Do  you  know  his  handwriting?" 

Lorna  dared  not  look  over  the  lightkeeper's  shoul 
der.  At  first  glance  she  had  recognized  the  red- 
covered  notebook.  There  might  have  been  some 
doubt  regarding  the  ownership  of  the  penknife;  but 
of  the  notebook — never ! 

"My  soul  and  body!" 

The  pipe  dropped  from  the  lightkeeper's  fingers 
and  was  shattered  at  his  feet.  He  gave  this  no 
attention.  He  was  staring,  quite  fascinated,  at  the 
flyleaf  of  the  little  book. 

"Doesn't  the  knife  belong  to  the  same  person?" 
asked  the  detective,  with  sharp  insistence. 

For  once  Tobias  was  ready  with  no  reply.  He 
fluttered  the  leaves  of  the  book  with  unsteady  fin 
gers.  The  visitor  continued : 

"Mr.  Thompson  said  you  would  know  if  any 
body  did.  He  says  you  are  a  great  chum  of  this 


The  Rising  Tide  of  Doubt         225 

fellow's — that  he  hangs  about  the  lighthouse  here  a 
good  deal. 

"Now,  there  is  no  possibility  of  the  book's  hav 
ing  been  left  there  before  the  vault  door  during 
banking  hours.  That  fellow  was  never  inside  the 
cage  for  any  purpose  whatsoever." 

Tobias  finally  regained  his  voice. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you  think  he'd  be  foolish 
enough  to  leave  this  book  right  in  sight  if  he  was 
one  o'  them  burglars?" 

"But  I  tell  you  it  was  found  there.  And  you 
yourself  found  the  knife  under  the  window.  Isn't 
that  his,  too?" 

"I  wouldn't  go  so  far  as  to  say  it  was,  nor  I 
wouldn't  say  it  wasn't,"  announced  the  old  light- 
keeper  with  emphasis.  "But  it  looks  right  senseless 
for  him  to  have  left  the  book  there — let's  see  where 
you  say  he  marked  down  the  combination?  That 
looks  right  silly,  too.  If  he  knowed  the  combination 
well  enough  to  open  the  safe,  why  bother  to  write 
it  down?" 

"There  it  is,"  said  the  detective,  pointing,  and 
with  emphasis.  "Those  figures  in  pencil.  That  is 
the  bank  vault  combination.  Or  it  was.  Of  course, 
it  will  be  changed  now." 

"Yes.  I  see.  Lockin'  the  garage  door  after  the 
tin  Lizzie's  been  stole,"  commented  Tobias. 

He  squinted  a  long  time  at  the  row  of  numbers 
and  letters  written  across  the  otherwise  blank  page. 


226  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

He  turned  back  a  leaf  or  two,  and  appeared  to  study 
the  addresses  written  thereon. 

"Yes,"  he  muttered.  "Writ  down  in  pencil.  All 
the  rest  in  ink.  He  most  always  does  carry  a  foun 
tain  pen." 

"No  doubt  about  that  knife  being  his,  too,  is 
there  ?"  insisted  the  detective  eagerly. 

"I  couldn't  say.  I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  I 
shall  have  to  think  it  over  purt'  serious  afore  I  can 
say  one  way  or  another." 

"You  don't  claim,"  the  detective  said  in  some 
heat,  "that  there  are  so  many  fellows  around  here 
wearing  platinum  watch  chains  that  you  can't 
guess  ?" 

"Oh,  sugar!  I  wouldn't  take  so  much  for 
granted,  if  I  was  you,  Mister.  I  don't  'low  ary  one 
o'  them  burglars  belonged  around  here." 

"How  do  you  explain  that  address  book?" 
snapped  the  other.  "Left  right  on  that  ledge  beside 
the  vault  door.  And  the  combination  written  in  it." 

"Say,  Mister,"  Tobias  rejoined  gravely,  "seems 
to  me  I  ain't  got  to  explain  it.  You  are  the  detec 
tive,  not  me.  I've  come  across  lots  of  things  in  this 
world  o'  toil  and  trouble  that  I  couldn't  begin  to 
explain." 

"You're  stalling,"  said  the  detective  harshly. 
"That  is  what  you  are  doing.  And  it  won't  help 
this  fellow  any.  Where  is  he  ?  Have  you  seen  him 
around  here  this  morning?" 


The  Rising  Tide  of  Doubt          227 

"I  cal'late  I  ain't,"  said  Tobias,  shaking  his  head. 
•  "Is  it  true  what  they  say,  that  he's  run  away?" 

A  slow  red  climbed  the  lightkeeper's  wind-tanned 
cheek.  Even  his  hairy  ear  became  inflamed.  Lorna, 
who  was  watching  him  breathlessly,  knew  that  this 
dark  flush  signaled  wrath — and  Tobias  was  not 
prone  to  lose  his  temper  easily. 

"Lemme  tell  you  something,  Mister  Man,"  he 
finally  rasped.  "I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  you 
air  one  o'  them  'dead-sure'  fellows.  You  know 
more  than  the  Creator  that  made  ye — or  you  think 
you  do." 

"I'm  here  to  investigate  this  burglary,"  interposed 
the  detective. 

"Investigate  all  you  dern  please!"  exclaimed  To 
bias.  "But  don't  you  come  here  and  try  to  trip  me 
up,  fur  I'm  purt'  sure-footed.  I've  gone  as  far  as 
I'm  going  to.  That  is,  until  I  know  more  than 
I  do  now.  That  there  book  probably  belongs  to  Mr. 
Ralph  Endicott.  That  leetle  gold  knife  may  belong 
to  him,  too.  Further  than  that  I  can't  and  won't 
say." 

"They  tell  me  down  at  the  village  that  he's  skipped 
out." 

"I  don't  know  nothing  about  that." 

"Is  that  the  house  his  folks  live  in — that  second 
one  up  there  on  the  bluff?" 

"Yes." 


228  Tobias  o'  the  Li*rht 

"Well,  I'll  go  up  there  and  see  what  they  know 
about  him.  I  guess  I'll  learn  something." 

"I  cal'late  you  will,"  rejoined  Tobias,  with  scorn. 
"I  cal'late  that  if  you  see  Professor  Henry  Endicott 
and  tell  him  his  nephew  is  a  bank  burglar  you — an* 
Arad  Thompson,  too — will  1'arn  more  than  you  ex 
pect.  I  shouldn't  wonder." 

The  detective  tramped  away  across  the  sandflat. 
Tobias  secured  his  bandana  and  mopped  his  heated 
brow. 

"Oh,  sugar!"  he  murmured.  "I  ain't  got  no  busi 
ness  bein'  all  het  up  this  a-way.  Won't  nothing 
come  of  it.  I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  fellow  is 
purt'  near  half  a  fool!" 

"But  Tobias!" 

He  started  and  looked  around.  Lorna,  pale  and 
red  by  turns,  suddenly  clung  to  his  shoulder. 

"Tut,  tut!"  the  old  man  muttered.  "I'd  forgot 
you  was  here,  Lorny.  Thought  you'd  gone  upstairs 
to  see  Heppy." 

"I — I  am  going.  But  I  had  to  wait  to  hear  what 
that  man  had  to  say.  It's  awful !  Ralph " 

"Ain't  no  sense  to  that,"  interrupted  Tobias  with 
scorn.  "O'  course  not." 

"But  that  knife.  It  is  his.  I'm  almost  sure  it  is !" 
sobbed  the  girl. 

"Oh,  sugar!  Wish't  I'd  never  picked  it  up,"  com 
plained  Tobias.  "Ain't  nothing  positive  about  it, 
I  tell  ye.  I  was  too  keen  after  a  clue,  I  was." 


The  Rising  Tide  of  Doubt         229 

"The  book !    That  is  surely  his." 

"Wai — yes.  I  cal'late.  But  it  don't  look  sensible 
that  he'd  leave  it  there  in  the  bank.  Somebody 
picked  it  up,  and  put  it  there.  Sure!" 

"Tobias  Bassett!  how  do  you  explain  the  com 
bination  being  written  in  Ralph's  address  book?" 

"Don't  believe  he  ever  wrote  it  there,"  the  light- 
keeper  replied  doggedly. 

"Why,  Tobias?" 

"Them  figgers  don't  look  like  what  Ralph  makes. 
I  took  a  squint  at  some  of  his'n.  Of  course,  folks 
writes  diff'rent  with  a  pencil  from  what  they  do 
with  a  pen  'most  always.  But,  then " 

"Oh,  Tobias !  you  are  saying  these  things  just  to 
try  to  convince  yourself — and  me — that  Ralph  is 
not  guilty." 

"Oh,  sugar!  I  don't  have  to  convince  myself  of 
any  such  thing.  I'd  have  to  try  mighty  hard  to 
made  myself  believe  that  he  was  guilty." 

The  young  woman  stared  at  him,  her  countenance 
very  much  troubled.  She  said  at  last  slowly : 

"There  is  no  reason  in  your  mind  for  a  belief  in 
his  possible  guilt,  Tobias  Bassett?" 

"Nary  reason,"  he  declared  in  amazement. 

"How  about  his  poverty?  If  he  is  penniless? 
Suppose  he  needed  a  large  sum  of  money  to  save 
him  from  trouble — from  disgrace?" 

"What  the " 


230  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

The  lightkeeper's  eyes  were  staring — almost  pop 
ping  out  of  his  head ! 

"I  know  it  sounds  terrible,"  moaned  the  young 
woman.  "But  if  the  Endicotts  have  lost  all  their 
money  how  do  we  know  what  financial  trouble 
Ralph  may  be  in?  Oh!  can't  you  see?  He  might 
have  been  desperately  tempted.  I  hate  to  think  of 
such  a  possibility.  But " 

She  burst  into  uncontrollable  weeping  at  this 
juncture  and,  turning  swiftly,  ran  into  the  house. 
Tobias  had  started  erect  upon  the  bench.  It  was 
several  moments  before  he  could  utter  any  comment. 
Then : 

"Now  I  have  done  it!"  he  ejaculated.  "I've  gone 
an'  put  my  foot  into  it  half-laig  deep,  and  no  mis 
take.  I  dunno.  Mebbe  Heppy's  right.  Enterin' 
in  where  angels  fear  to  tread  has  its  dangers.  I 
cal'late  my  matchmaking  scheme  was  all  right.  But 
who'd  have  ever  thought  anything  like  this  would 
turn  up? 

"Oh,  sugar!" 


CHAPTER  XXII 

WHAT  FRETS  LORNA 

AFTER  some  further  consideration  Tobias  Bassett 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  startling  suspicion 
regarding  Ralph  Endicott's  connection  with  the' 
burglary  of  the  Qinkerport  Bank  was  no  joke. 

That  Lorna  should  actually  fear  there  was  truth 
in  the  accusation  was  disturbing  enough.  But  the 
lightkeeper  believed  that  by  revealing  to  her  his  own 
ill-advised  deceit  in  the  matter  of  the  Endicotts' 
financial  situation,  he  could  assuage  Lorna's  anxiety. 

It  seemed,  however,  that  the  public  in  general — 
and  Clinkerport  folk  in  particular — were  likely  to 
jump  to  the  same  conclusion  that  the  bank  detec 
tive  and  Arad  Thompson  held. 

"It  looks  right  silly,  knowing  the  Endicotts  as 
everybody  about  here  does,  and  all,"  muttered  the 
matchmaking  lightkeeper.  "But  if  ever  that  story 
I  told  Lorny  gets  spread  abroad 

"Oh,  sugar !  Telling  even  a  white  lie  is  just  like 
dropping  oil  on  a  woolen  garment.  It  spreads,  an' 
spreads 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  if  ever  Heppy  hears 
tell  of  my  interferin'  as  I  have  in  these  young  folks' 

231 


232  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

love  troubles,  I  won't  never  hear  the  last  of  it.  Un 
less  Heppy  dies  before  I  do — the  Lord  forbid!" 

He  sat  there  and  watched  the  detective  come  away 
from  the  Endicott  bungalow  after  a  while.  Rafe 
Silver  had  turned  the  car  about  and  waited  for  the 
man  at  the  foot  of  the  lane.  From  where  Tobias 
sat  it  looked  as  though  the  detective  had  not  gained 
much  by  his  visit. 

"I  doubt  if  he  even  see  Henry  Endicott,"  con 
sidered  the  lightkeeper,  "he's  that  dissatisfied.  I'd 
give  something  to  know  what  that  shabby  looking 
sleuth  thinks  he'll  do  now.  Trying  to  tie  such  a 
thing  to  Ralph  Endicott.  Oh,  sugar !" 

The  big  blue  limousine  went  back  to  Clinkerport. 
The  inhabitants  of  the  town  by  this  time  were  in  a 
ferment.  Thirty  hours  had  elapsed — or  thereabout 
— since  the  discovery  of  the  burglary.  The  bank 
had  not  opened  its  doors  nor  had  Arad  Thompson 
made  a  public  statement. 

Rumor  and  surmise  scuttled  through  the  narrow 
streets  of  the  port  like  thunder- frighted  fowl.  Shop 
keepers  stood  at  their  street-doors  and  housewives 
on  their  side  porches.  Gossip  was  rife  and  suspicion 
was  bound  finally  to  pounce  hawklike  on  some 
victim. 

Who  first  tarred  Ralph  Endicott's  name  with  the 
brush  of  suspicion  seemed  a  mystery.  Only  Silas 
Compton  and  Ezra  Crouch  had  seen  the  little  gold 
penknife  Tobias  had  found  under  the  bank  window. 


What  Frets  Lorna  233 

The  bank  president  had  spoken  to  nobody  save  the 
detective  about  the  toy,  and  the  sleuth  was  as  close- 
mouthed  as  a  clam. 

Yet  when  the  latter  arrived  back  at  Clinkerport 
the  whole  town  seemed  to  know  about  that  knife, 
and  most  of  the  excited  inhabitants  were  quite  posi 
tive  that  it  belonged  to  Ralph  Endicott. 

"You  kin  believe  it  or  not,  as  ye  see  fit,"  Ezra 
Crouch  was  saying  to  a  group  of  soap-box  warmers 
in  Compton's  store,  "his  going  away  the  other  day 
was  all  a  bluff.  Just  a  bluff.  He  was  back  again 
that  night." 

"Prob'bly.  If  he  was  one  of  the  burglars,"  com 
mented  the  storekeeper. 

"Of  course  he  was  one  of  the  burgulars.  He  was 
like  enough  the  ring-leader  of  'em,"  declared  Ezra. 

"I  never  did  like  that  feller  much/'  breathed  one 
easily  convinced  listener. 

"Too  uppity,"  slaid  another. 

"All  them  Endicotts  is  proud  as  Punch,"  declared 
a  third. 

"Here!  Here!"  cried  Compton.  "You  fellers  air 
jumpin'  at  a  conclusion  that's  got  mighty  leetle  evi 
dence  behind  it.  Ye  air  grabbing  at  it  just  like  a 
snapper  at  a  sandworm.  You  ain't  sure  he  come 
back  after  he  left  town,  bag  and  baggage,  day  'fore 
yesterday." 

"Yes,  I  be,"  said  Ezra,  nodding.    "He  was  seen. 


234  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

As  late  as  ten  o'clock  that  night.  Right  here  on 
Main  Street." 

"Ye  don't  say !"  was  the  excited  chorus. 

But  Silas  Compton  was  not  so  easily  convinced. 
He  snorted  and  looked  over  his  spectacles  at  Ezra, 
balancing  back  and  forth  on  his  soap-box  as  perky 
as  any  catbird. 

"There  ain't  no  sense  in  it,"  declared  the  store 
keeper.  "What  need  of  that  rich  feller  robbin'  a 
bank?" 

"He  ain't  rich,"  cackled  Ezra  Crouch.  "It's  his 
uncle — that  crazy  inventor.  He's  got  all  the  money. 
Not  this  boy." 

"What's  the  difference?" 

"A  good  deal,  I  cal'late,"  declared  the  confident 
Ezra.  "Mebbe  he  had  need  of  a  lot  of  money  that 
his  uncle  wouldn't  give  him.  You  know  how  them 
college  boys  air.  Purt'  tough,  if  ye  ask  me." 

"But,  my  goodness!"  gasped  Compton,  rather 
balked  by  the  other's  confidence,  "nobody  ever  heard 
of  anything  like  this  against  the  Endicotts  of  Am- 
perly — nossir !" 

"There's  most  always  a  black  sheep  in  every 
flock,"  replied  Ezra,  pursing  his  shaven  lips.  "At 
any  rate,  that  there  penknife  Tobias  found  is  his'n, 
and  they  tell  me  the  detective  Arad  Thompson  sent 
for  is  huntin'  Ralph  Endicott  high  and  low." 

This  last  was  a  fact.  The  detective  had  stronger 
-reason  than  the  finding  of  the  penknife  for  making 


What  Frets  Lorna  23$ 

inquiries  about  Ralph.  But  the  public  did  not  know 
about  the  address  book — not  as  yet. 

It  seemed  peculiar  that  after  all  the  friends  Ralph 
was  supposed  to  have  made  in  Clinkerport,  so  few 
of  them  were  in  the  front  rank,  so  to  speak,  at  this 
juncture.  Zeke  Bassett  returned  to  the  Twin  Rocks 
Light  that  evening  quite  disturbed  over  this  sur 
prising  fact. 

"Does  'pear,"  he  said  to  Tobias,  when  he  entered 
the  kitchen  after  putting  away  the  car,  "that  Clinker- 
port  folks  is  about  as  faithful  to  their  friends  as 
rock  adders!  Talk  about  warmin'  a  viper  in  your 
bosom,  Tobias.  Ralph  Endicott  has  warmed  a 
whole  seine  full  o'  vipers,  seems  to  me.  I  never 
would  have  believed  a  nice  feller  like  him  could 
have  made  so  many  friends  that  turned  out  to  be 
enemies  when  he  got  into  trouble." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  murmured  the  lightkeeper.  "I  give 
it  as  my  opinion  that  Clinkerport  folks  is  purt'  aver 
age  human — that's  all." 

But  his  face  was  grim  enough  as  he  listened  to 
Zeke's  further  narration.  It  seemed  the  local  police 
were  working  hand  in  hand  with  the  detective,  and 
their  main  effort  seemed  to  be  along  the  line  of 
hunting  Ralph  and  trailing  his  movements  during 
the  few  days  subsequent  to  the  burglary. 

"I  don't  know  how  much  they  think  they've  got 
on  him,"  concluded  the  surfman.  "But  just  now, 


236  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

before  I  come  back,  Gyp  Pellet Know  him, 

Cousin  Tobe?  Lives  down  to  Peehawket." 

"I  know  him,"  confessed  the  interested  light- 
keeper. 

"Well,  Gyp  Pellet  came  up  to  town  and  told  the 
constable  and  this  here  bank  detective  that  he'd 
rented  Ralph  his  catboat — the  old  Gullwing — early 
on  the  morning  after  the  bank  was  burgled." 

"Yesterday  morning?  Oh,  sugar!  What  was 
Ralph  doing  down  to  Peehawket  Cove  ?" 

"Got  me.  Gyp  says  he  seen  him  walkin'  up  the 
railroad  tracks  carrying  a  heavy  bag  about  day 
break.  O'  course,  everybody  says  he  had  the  bank's 
money — or  part  of  it  anyway — in  that  bag.  They 
kind  of  figger  he  and  the  other  burglars  went  down 
the  railroad  on  a  hand  car,  and  separated  somewhere 
below  Peehawket.  Ever  hear  such  foolishness?" 

"It  listens  purty  foolish,"  admitted  Tobias. 

"Gyp  says  Ralph  was  terrible  anxious  to  get  away 
in  the  Gullwing.  Ye  know  that  old  cat  ain't  wuth 
the  new  caulkin'  Gyp  put  into  her  seams  this  spring. 
And  you  bet  he  held  out  for  his  price,  seein'  Ralph 
was  in  need.  He  didn't  exactly  say  how  much  he 
stung  the  young  feller;  but  if  he  don't  never  see  that 
old  tub  again,  I  reckon  he  don't  cal'late  to  lose 
much." 

"What  do  you  s'pose  Ralph  is  up  to?"  sighed 
Tobias.  "He  put  out  yesterday  morning  from  Pee- 


What  Frets  Lorna  237 

hawket  Cove,  did  he?  And  Gyp  ain't  got  no  idea 
where  he  went?" 

"Says  he  tacked  southerly  after  he  got  outside. 
Beyond  that  Gyp  declares  he  don't  know  a  thing." 

"Wherever  Ralph  is,  I  hope  he's  moored  safe  to 
night,"  muttered  the  lightkeeper. 

He  rose  and  went  to  the  door,  peering  out  into 
the  darkness.  The  wind  was  moaning  in  the  dis 
tance  while  the  deeper  bourdon  of  thunderous 
breakers  on  the  reefs  added  to  the  audible  threat  of 
the  elements. 

"We're  going  to  have  a  humdinger,"  said  Tobias, 
with  fuller  assurance,  returning  from  the  door. 
"And  if  that  boy  went  to  sea  in  that  leaky  old  tub 


The  door  from  the  stairway  was  pushed  wide 
open  and  Lorna  Nicholet  came  into  the  kitchen. 
Her  countenance  was  pale  and  there  was  a  deep 
smudge  under  each  eye.  But  the  eyes  themselves 
were  very  bright — perhaps  tear  bright.  And  yet  she 
was  not  a  girl  who  often  wept. 

She  carried  a  tray  on  which  was  a  teapot,  crusts 
of  toast,  and  part  of  a  glass  of  jelly.  Before  she 
spoke  she  set  the  tray  upon  the  Turkey-red  cloth 
that  always  covered  Miss  Heppy's  table  between 
meals.  Indeed,  Zeke,  making  ready  to  go  aloft  for 
a  look  at  the  lamp,  was  first  to  ask : 

"How's  Cousin  Heppy?" 

"She  managed  to  eat  a  little  supper.    She  is  quiet 


238  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

now,"  Lorna  said.  "Is  the  bank  matter  settled? 
That  is  what  is  worrying  Miss  Heppy.  If  her 
money  is  lost " 

"Oh,  sugar!"  muttered  the  lightkeeper,  while 
Zeke  shook  his  head. 

"Arad  Thompson  ain't  let  out  a  peep,"  the  surf- 
man  declared.  "I  don't  suppose  he  wants  to  shoul 
der  all  the  loss.  I  don't  know  anything  about  the 
law  on  it." 

He  went  out  to  the  stairs  and  closed  the  door 
behind  him.  Lorna  turned  like  a  flash  upon  the 
old  lightkeeper. 

"Tobias  Bassett !"  she  ejaculated,  "what  is  it  now 
about  Ralph?" 

"Heh?"  She  had  managed  to  startle  him  that 
time.  "Why,  Lorna,  I  don't  know " 

"What  has  happened  to  him?  I  heard  you  say 
something  about  his  going  to  sea.  What  do  you 
mean  ?** 

"Why,  there's  a  story  that  he  went  out  from  Pee- 
hawket  Cove  in  a  catboat  yesterday  morning.  But 
we  don't  know  what  he  went  for,  or  where  he's 
gone." 

"I  heard  you  say  it  was  an  old  tub.  If  he  is  out 
there  and  there  is  a  storm  coming  up,  what  is  going 
to  become  of  him  ?" 

"Oh,  sugar!  Ralph's  a  good  sailor.  You  know 
he  is.  He  wouldn't  likely  run  into  no  danger. 


What  Frets  Lorna  239 

When  he  see  the  storm  coming  he'd  run  for  it  some 
where.  Sure !" 

"And  where  would  he  run,  if  he  knew  that  the 
police  were  looking  for  him  in  every  port  up  and 
down  the  Cape?"  demanded  the  young  woman. 

She  brought  out  the  question  pantingly  and  one 
hand  clutched  at  her  bosom.  Tobias  stared.  That 
Lorna  Nicholet  should  display  such  abundant  emo 
tion  puzzled  him. 

"Good  glory,  Lorna !"  he  gasped.  "Air  all  women 
alike?  You  talk  about  Ralph  just  the  same  as 
Heppy  does  about  our  money.  Ain't  a  spark  o' 
hope  in  either  of  your  hearts,  I  don't  believe.  You 
talk  like  you  was  sure  Ralph  is  mixed  up  in  that 
burglary." 

"He  is,  isn't  he?"  she  demanded  with  sharpness. 
"At  least,"  she  supplemented,  "he  is  accused." 

"I  never  thought,  Lorny,"  the  lightkeeper  re 
joined  gravely,  "that  you'd  go  back  on  an  old  friend 
this-a-way.  Why!  if  Ralph's  friends  are  going  to 
believe  such  tommyrot  about  him,  no  wonder 
strangers — as  ye  might  call  'em — air  so  fickle." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Tobias  Bassett?  Haven't 
we  reason  enough  to  be  suspicious  of  him  ?" 

"I  can't  see  it,  Lorny." 

"Why!  That  penknife!  And  that  address  book! 
What  of  them?" 

Tobias  shook  his  head,  puckering  his  lips  thought 
fully. 


240  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"And  see  how.  he  has  acted !  Going  off  without 
telling  anybody  where  he  is  bound,  or  what  he 
means  to  do.  Oh!  even  if  he  isn't  guilty,  I've  no 
patience  with  him." 

"I  kin  see  that,"  admitted  Tobias  reflectively. 

"There  is  more  than  that.  You  know  there  is!" 
cried  Lorna,  on  the  verge  of  tears  at  last.  "He — 
he  has  lost  his  money  and  he  may  be  desperately  in 
need  of  some  for — for  a  certain  purpose.  How  do 
we  know  what  temptation  he  may  have  been  under 
these  last  few  weeks?  I — I  feel  condemned!  I 
should  have  offered  to  help  him !" 

She  said  it  wildly,  and  fairly  ran  out  of  the 
kitchen  again  before  Tobias  could  recover  his 
powers  of  speech.  On  the  stairway  she  stopped  to 
wipe  away  her  tears.  Were  they  tears  of  rage,  or 
of  actual  fear  for  Ralph  Endicott's  safety?  Lorna 
could  scarcely  have  told  had  she  been  asked. 

In  her  pocket  was  a  crumpled  bit  of  paper — a  leaf 
torn  from  that  very  address  book  which  now  seemed 
to  be  plain  evidence  against  Ralph  Endicott.  He 
had  torn  it  out  in  anger  and  thrown  it  at  Conny 
Degger — the  page  on  which  was  written  Cora  De- 
vine's  address.  The  very  thought  of  that  girl 
stabbed  Lorna  to  the  heart ! 

For,  deny  it  as  she  would,  Lorna  was  jealous. 
She  was  enraged  that  a  girl  of  that  character  could 
attract,  even  for  a  little  while,  a  man  who  had  been 
her  friend.  With  all  his  faults,  Lorna  had  always 


What  Frets  Lorna  241 

considered  Ralph  manly  and  decent.  That  he  should 
have  found  entertainment — even  for  a  brief  time — • 
with  a  girl  of  such  character ! 

It  did  not  enter  into  Lorna's  consideration  that 
the  only  testimony  she  had  as  to  Cora  Devine's 
character  came  through  Conny  Degger.  And  at  the 
present  moment  she  would  not  have  taken  Degger's 
word  as  final  on  any  subject 

What  she  thought  she  knew,  however,  had  fes 
tered  in  Lorna's  mind  until  it  discharged  nothing 
but  evil  suspicion  against  Ralph.  Shrewd  Conny 
Degger  had  said  just  enough  to  turn  Lorna's  milk 
of  human  kindness  acid.  At  least  as  far  as  Ralph 
was  concerned. 

She  finally  climbed  the  stairs  to  Miss  Heppy's 
whitewashed  cell.  The  old  woman  had  fallen 
asleep  at  last.  She  sobbed  now  and  then  into  her 
pillow,  like  a  heart-broken  child. 

"Poor  Miss  Heppy!"  the  girl  murmured.  "The 
loss  of  that  money  spells  tragedy  for  her.  It  is 
almost  the  greatest  blow  that  could  have  befallen 
her." 

But  she  was  not  exactly  thinking  of  Miss  Heppy's 
trouble — not  in  particular.  She  sat  down  at  the 
little  table  on  which  stood  the  shaded  lamp.  There 
was  a  bottle  of  ink  on  the  table  with  a  penholder 
and  a  rusty  pen  in  it.  There  was  a  cheap  box  with 
"Elite  Writing  Paper"  ornately  printed  on  it.  She 
took  out  a  sheet  of  paper  and  an  envelope. 


242  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Very  slowly,  and  with  much  thought  between 
phrases,  Lorna  wrote  a  letter  and  addressed  it  to 
"Miss  Cora  Devine,  27  Canstony  Street,  Charles- 
town,  Mass."  Afterward,  Miss  Heppy  having 
fallen  deeper  into  sleep,  Lorna  turned  down  the 
wick  of  the  lamp  and  crept  out  of  the  room. 

There  was  nobody  in  the  kitchen  when  she  de 
scended  the  stairs,  Tobias  having  joined  Zeke  Bas- 
sett  in  the  lamp  room.  Lorna  slipped  into  her 
jacket  and  wound  a  veil  about  her  head.  Outside 
the  boom  of  the  surf  and  shrieking  of  the  wind 
frightened  her.  A  fierce  storm  was  gathering.  If 
Ralph  was  out  in  a  small  boat  in  this  hurricane 

She  fought  her  way  across  the  sands  and  climbed 
the  bluff.  There  was  a  light  in  Jackson's  room 
over  the  garage.  It  was  not  yet  ten  o'clock,  and  a 
mail  train  went  through  Clinkerport  just  before 
eleven. 

She  called  to  the  chauffeur.  He  came  down  im 
mediately  and  was  only  too  willing  to  do  her  errand. 
The  letter  was  to  be  stamped  for  special  delivery  and 
was  to  be  mailed  on  the  train. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

MORE  THAN  WEATHER  INDICATIONS 

AUGUST  seldom  breeds  such  a  gale  along  the  Cape 
Cod  coast  as  this  threatened  to  be.  At  that  date 
the  Life  Saving  Service  was  administered  more  eco 
nomically  than  it  should  have  been. 

But  duty  is  a  high  mark — and  always  has  been — 
to  the  men  in  this  service.  The  threat  of  this  mount 
ing  gale  called  the  Lower  Trillion  crew  together  on 
their  own  responsibility.  Not  long  after  midnight 
Zeke  Bassett  left  the  Twin  Rocks  Light,  got  out  his 
little  car,  and  ran  down  to  the  station  to  see  if  the 
captain  had  need  of  him. 

Zeke  returned  for  early  breakfast  at  the  light  and 
to  get  some  of  his  chattels  that  he  needed.  Hurri 
cane  signals  were  out  all  along  the  coast,  and  al 
though  Captain  Edgar  of  the  Lower  Trillion  sta 
tion  would  not  send  out  beach  patrols,  he  was  glad 
to  have  his  crew  within  call.  The  wind  was  out  of 
the  northeast  and  had  already  spun  the  gauge  to 
sixty-five  miles  an  hour. 

"We've  been  overhauling  the  gear  and  soaking  up 
the  old  lifeboat  since  mid-watch,"  said  Zeke  between 
huge  mouth fuls  of  Tobias's  johnnycake  and  fried 

243 


244  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

pork.  "I  dunno  why  the  Service  don't  give  us  a 
power  boat.  They've  got  one  at  Upper  Trillion. 
But  there's  a  whole  flock  of  millionaires  up  there 
that  have  got  influence  with  Congress.  Huh !" 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  money  does  have 
some  influence  sometimes." 

"Say,  speakin'  of  money!  That  reminds  me. 
Jefferson  Gallup — he's  Number  Six  on  our  crew — 
gave  us  a  different  line  on  that  Endicott  boy  this 
morning." 

"Oh,  Ralph?" 

"Yes.  Seems  he  did  go  to  sea  in  the  Gullwing. 
Jefferson  was  out  with  his  brother-in-law  in  the 
sloop  fishing,  and  they  spied  Endicott  and  the  cat 
going  out  and  coming  in  last  night.  He  was  hang 
ing  around  the  jaw  of  Cape  Fisher.  He's  a  good 
sailor,  Jefferson  says." 

"I  cal'late,"  agreed  Tobias,  wagging  his  head. 
"But  what  was  he  doin'  out  there?" 

"Course,"  said  Zeke,  reflectively,  "at  that  time 
Jefferson  Gallup  hadn't  heard  a  word  about  the  bank 
burglary.  Comin'  in  they  ran  close  to  the  Gullwing 
and  hailed  Endicott — asked  him  what  he  was  loafing 
around  there  for.  He  didn't  'pear  to  have  no  fish." 

"And  what  did  he  say?"  asked  Tobias  eagerly. 

"Why,  he  shouted  something  about  waiting  there 
to  spy  the  Nelly  G." 

"The  Nelly  G.?"  repeated  Tobias.  "Why,  she's 
a  Banker." 


More  than  Weather  Indications      245 

"Yep.  Hails  from  New  Bedford.  I  heard  tell 
she  was  making  an  early  start  for  the  Georges.  And 
it  seems,  from  what  Jefferson  Gallup  gathered,  that 
Ralph  Endicott  was  cal'latin'  on  going  with  her." 

"Oh,  sugar!"  exclaimed  the  lightkeeper.  "Of 
course.  He's  said  to  me  more  than  once  that  he'd 
admire  to  take  a  trip  on  one  o'  them  haddockers. 
But  why  didn't  he  go  down  to  New  Bedford  and 
board  her  proper?" 

"I  cal'late,"  said  the  sober  Zeke,  "that  other  folks 
is  goin'  to  ask  that  same  question,  Tobias  Bassett. 
If  he  boards  that  schooner  he's  got  to  abandon  the 
Gullwing.  And  I  bet  he  paid  Gyp  Pellet  every  cent 
she's  worth  for  the  use  of  her.  Looks  suspicious." 

"There  you  go!"  ejaculated  Tobias,  with  heat. 
"That  boy  never  did  value  money.  If  he  wanted  to 
do  a  thing  he'd  do  it,  never  mind  if  it  cost  him  his 
last  cent." 

"Wai,"  was  the  dry  response,  as  Zeke  got  up 
from  the  table,  "if  Endicott  had  in  that  suitcase 
what  folks  say  he  had,  I  reckon  it  didn't  cost  him 
his  last  cent  to  satisfy  even  such  a  hog  as  Gyp  Pel 
let." 

Tobias  wagged  his  head  and  said  nothing  further. 
He  was  more  puzzled  than  ever  now.  It  did  look 
as  though  there  was  something  peculiar  about 
Ralph's  departure  from  home. 

The  old- lightkeeper  would  not  believe  anything 
against  the  character  of  the  boy  he  had  watched 


246  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

grow  up  and  loved  so  well.  He  knew  Ralph  Endi- 
cott  was  not  perfect;  but  he  was  "toler'ble  sure,"  as 
he  expressed  it,  that  Ralph  was  no  bank  burglar. 

He  was  as  anxious  now  over  the  absent  youth  as 
Lorna  was,  and  Lorna  had  spent  a  most  unhappy 
night.  -She  arose  on  this  wild  and  turbulent  morn 
ing  unable  to  hide  from  even  the  casual  glance  the 
traces  of  tears  and  sleeplessness. 

And  Miss  Ida's  glance  was  never  casual.  The 
moment  Lorna  slipped  into  the  breakfast  room — a 
wee  bit  late,  perhaps — her  aunt  looked  up  from 
behind  the  coffee  percolator.  She  was  saying: 

"I  do  wish  John  Nicholet  would  return.  All  I 
get  is  a  scrawl  here,"  she  tapped  the  letter  beside 
her  plate,  "saying  that  he  may  be  delayed  a  day  or 
two  longer  in  Boston.  I  am  worried,  Lorna,  about 
Prof — about  the  Endicotts.  If  only  Ralph  had  not 
gone  away  I  certainly  would  put  the  question  to  him 
frankly.  If  the  family  is  in  financial  difficulties 
What  is  the  matter,  Lorna?" 

Her  tone  was  sharp.  For  once  Miss  Ida's  calm 
was  fretted  by  her  niece's  appearance. 

"Are  you  ill  ?"  she  cried. 

"Why,  no,  Aunt  Ida." 

"What  is  the  matter  then  ?" 

"I—I—oh,  Auntie!  The  Clinkerport  Bank! 
They  say  Ralph  robbed  it!" 

"They" say Are  you  crazy,  child?" 

"No,  no!    It's  true!" 


More  than  Weather  Indications      247 

"What  is  true  ?"  demanded  Miss  Ida,  her  cheeks 
actually  reddening.  "Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  Lorna 
Nicholet,  that  you  for  one  instant  believe  such  a  vile 
calumny  about  Ralph  Endicott?" 

"But — but  the  police  are  hunting  him.  He  has 
run  away.  He  hired  a  boat  down  at  Peehawket 
Cove  and  nobody  knows  where  he  has  gone  in  it." 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  the  bank  robbery?" 
asked  Miss  Ida  severely. 

Finally  Lorna  recovered  her  voice  sufficiently  to 
give  a  detailed  account  of  the  events  connecting 
Ralph's  name  with  the  burglary.  Miss  Ida  listened 
with  haughty  impatience.  When  her  niece  had 
finished  the  spinster  actually  snorted — no  other 
word  just  expresses  it ! 

"Lorna!  I  think  you  are  a  fool,"  she  declared. 
"If  Ralph  told  me  himself  he  had  committed  a  bur 
glary  I  should  not  believe  it." 

"You  do  not  know  what  temptation  he  may  have 
had,"  faltered  the  girl. 

She  would  not  breathe  a  word  regarding  Cora 
Devine  and  her  fear  that  Ralph  might  have  been 
hounded  for  a  sum  of  money  that  he  could  not 
honestly  obtain.  It  was  not  that  Lorna  was  really 
convinced  Ralph  was  a  thief.  She  feared  that  the 
general  suspicion  that  had  settled  upon  him  might 
be  supported  by  seeming  evidence.  If  he  was 
brought  to  arrest,  what  then? 


248  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Miss  Ida  arose  from  her  seat,  leaving  her  break 
fast  almost  untouched. 

"I  am  going  to  see  Henry  Endicott  at  once.  He 
must  take  me  into  his  confidence,  as  John  is  not 
here.  If  this  bitter  humiliation  comes  upon  him  at 
such  a  time — when  he  must  be  already  overwhelmed 
with  trouble — no  knowing  what  the  result  may  be." 

"But  he  is  shut  up  in  his  laboratory.  He  even 
sleeps  there.  You  can't  talk  to  him,  Aunt  Ida." 

For  once  Miss  Ida  spoke  impulsively.  Indeed, 
she  fairly  blazed  the  reply  at  her  startled  niece. 

"I  am  not  afraid  of  Henry  Endicott  or  of  his 
foolish  orders  about  being  let  alone  when  he  is  at 
work.  Once  I  might — well,  this  is  a  different  mat 
ter.  I  am  not  a  silly  girl,  I  hope.  Henry  Endicott 
must  be  dragged  out  of  his  shell  if  need  be!" 

She  made  her  exit,  leaving  Lorna  wondering  just 
whom  Miss  Ida  had  referred  to.  Was  the  "silly 
girl"  mentioned  Miss  Ida  or  Lorna?  Was  it  pos 
sible  that  her  aunt  harked  back  to  an  incident  of  her 
past  association  with  Professor  Endicott  that  Lorna 
knew  nothing  about  ? 

She  finished  her  own  breakfast  hastily  and  then 
got  into  her  storm  coat  and  boots.  She  had  prom 
ised  the  lightkeeper's  sister  to  go  this  morning  and 
put  in  order  the  living  rooms  in  the  light  tower. 
But  when  she  stepped  out  of  the  side  door  and  felt 
the  blast  off  the  sea,  Lorna  was  almost  staggered. 

The  skyline,  where  it  met  and  merged  with  the 


More  than  Weather  Indications      249 

sea,  was  blue-black  in  hue,  and  the  slate-colored 
clouds  hung  low.  Racing  shoreward  the  lines  of 
white-maned  waves  seemed  striving  to  overtake 
each  other — running  a  handicap  that  left  the  ob 
server  breathless.  The  thunderous  crash  of  the 
waves'  recurrent  breaking  on  the  reefs  was  all  but 
deafening.  Lorna,  beaten  on  like  a  leaf  across  the 
sands,  had  never  experienced  such  a  gale — surely 
not  in  midsummer — as  this.  It  was  frightful! 

The  greater  powers  of  both  wind  and  sea  were 
unleashed.  Not  a  spar  was  visible  on  all  the  wide 
expanse  of  tumbling  sea.  The  hurricane  had  been 
long  gathering,  and  the  fishermen  and  other  sea 
farers  were  forewarned. 

Yet  this  poignant  thought  smote  Lorna  Nicho- 
let's  mind :  Where  was  Ralph  at  this  very  moment  ? 
If  he  had  remained  outside  in  that  leaky  catboat, 
surely  he  had  come  to  grief.  Even  large  vessels 
must  make  plenty  of  searoom  in  such  a  gale  as  this, 
and  the  Gullwing  surely  was  not  a  seaworthy  craft. 

She  staggered  to  the  door  of  the  lighthouse  and 
flung  it  open.  Tobias  Bassett  was  puttering  about 
the  stove.  There  was  a  smell  of  scorched  toast  in 
the  air  and  the  eggs  he  was  trying  to  poach  were 
being  cooked  to  rags  in  a  saucepan  of  furiously 
boiling  water. 

"My  soul  and  body,  Lorny!  I  sartainly  be  glad 
to  see  you.  I  thought  mebbe  you  wouldn't  get  over, 
it's  such  a  gale." 


250  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

He  did  not  notice  her  agitation,  for  his  attention 
was  fixed  upon  the  maltreated  eggs. 

"I  could  cook  once  for  a  crew  of  haddockers  good 
enough;  but  none  of  them  was  invalids.  An  egg  is 
the  loosest  thing !  I  vum !  how  d'ye  make  'em  stay 
together,  Lorny?" 

But  the  almost  breathless  girl  had  that  on  her 
mind  that  precluded  her  taking  any  interest  in 
culinary  puzzles.  She  leaned  against  the  door  she 
had  closed  behind  her,  and  gasped : 

"What  about  Ralph?  Have  you  heard  anything 
more?  Do  you  know  if  he  is  safe?" 

"Why,  I  cal'late  he  is,"  the  lightkeeper  rejoined 
slowly,  looking  at  her  now  with  attention.  "I  don't 
know  just  why  he  put  to  sea  out  of  Peehawket  Cove 
'stead  o'  going  to  New  Bedford  to  jine  the  Nelly 
G. " 

"To  join  the  Nelly  G.?"  repeated  the  young 
woman.  "What  for?" 

"Going  to  the  Banks,  I  cal'late.  He  let  it  be 
known  that  he  was  waiting  outside  o'  Cape  Fisher 
for  the  Nelly  G.  to  come  along." 

"He  is  running  away,  then !"  cried  Lorna. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  said  Tobias,  forgetting 
the  eggs  entirely.  "You  ain't  got  no  reason,  Lorny, 
to  think  so  bad  of  Ralph.  He  didn't  have  nothing 
to  do  with  that  bank  robbery — nossir !" 

"You  cannot  prove  that,  Tobias  Bassett,"  she 
cried  wildly.  "You — you  don't  know  all — all  that 


More  than  Weather  Indications      251 

might  have  tempted  him.  And  he  being  without 
money." 

"Oh,  sugar !"  muttered  the  worried  lightkeeper, 
reddening  like  a  schoolboy  caught  in  a  peccadillo. 
Then :  "I  tell  you  there  ain't  no  reason.  He  ain't 
poor." 

"Why,  Tobias  Bassett!  if  Professor  Endicott  has 
lost  all  his  money " 

"But  he  ain't!  It's  all  torn  foolishness.  I — I  just 
told  you  I'd  heard  'twas  so,  Lorny.  And  I  did  hear 
it.  You  know  how  gossip  goes  in  Clinkerport. 
Them  story-mongers  has  had  Henry  Endicott  ruined 
financially  because  of  his  inventions  a  score  of 
times." 

"But  you  told  me " 

"Oh,  sugar !  I  didn't  have  no  business  to  tell  you 
such  a  thing.  I  never  ought  to  have  said  it,"  stam 
mered  the  lightkeeper.  "I  was  figgerin'  that  the 
matter  with  you  young  folks — you  and  Ralph — was 
that  you  both  had  too  much  money.  If  you  was 
poor  I  cal'lated  you'd  begin  to  have  pity  for  each 
other  and,  as  the  feller  said,  'pity  is  akin  to  love.' ' 

"Tobias  Bassett,  you  deliberately  deceived  me? 
Ralph  Endicott  is  not  poor  at  all  ?" 

Her  face  was  suddenly  aflame.  Her  eyes  sparkled 
with  rage.  She  stamped  her  foot.  Tobias  had  no 
difficulty  in  keeping  a  straight  face  now.  In  truth 
he  could  not  have  called  up  a  grin  to  save  his  life. 

"That's  just  what  I  done,  Lorna,"  he  confessed. 


Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"I  cal'late  I  trimmed  my  sails  purt'  close  to  tix 
truth  and  no  mistake.  Didn't  just  foresee  this  diffi 
culty,  that's  a  fact.  But  you  disabuse  your  mind 
right  now  of  the  idea  of  Ralph  Endicott  being  any 
thing  different  from  what  he's  always  been — as 
straight  as  a  main  stick  and  as  clean  as  a  whistle." 

"But  that  penknife  you  found — and  his  address 
book?"  she  gasped. 

"I  ain't  trying  to  explain  them.  I  don't  have  to 
— just  like  I  told  that  detective  feller.  I  give  it  as 
my  opinion  that  somebody  is  trying  to  tie  something 
on  Ralph.  But  no  evidence  they  could  show  me 
would  make  me  believe  he  was  a  bank  burglar — 
nossir!" 

Suddenly  Lorna  shrieked  and  ran  at  him.  The 
old  Hghtkeeper  skipped  out  of  her  path  with  sur 
prising  agility. 

"Aw — now — Lorny!"  he  gasped,  "don't  be  too 
hard  on  a  fellow." 

"Tobias  Bassett!    Those  eggs!" 

"Oh,  sugar!  They  be  a  mess,  now,  ain't  they?" 
And  he  chuckled. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

UNDERSTANDING 

IT  is  admitted  that  those  eggs  saved  Tobias  Bas- 
sett  from  feeling  the  full  weight  of  the  young 
woman's  wrath.  And  that  is  as  well.  For  the  eggs 
were  by  this  time  absolutely  useless  for  any  other 
purpose.  One  cannot  poach  eggs  for  twenty  min 
utes  and  pronounce  them  edible. 

"And  this  toast!  What  a  black  mess!"  scolded 
Lorna.  "The  tea  must  have  been  boiling  half  an 
hour,  too.  Tobias  Bassett,  would  you  serve  such 
a, meal  as  that  to  your  poor,  sick  sister?" 

"Oh,  sugar!  I  tell  you  I  ain't  no  fancy  cook, 
Lorny.  I — I  guess  I'll  go  up  and  fill  the  lamp. 
Zeke  ain't  going  to  be  with  us  to-day.  My,  my! 
hear  that  wind,  will  ye?" 

He  was  glad  to  get  out  of  the  kitchen.  That 
young  woman,  he  opined,  was  some  spitfire!  But 
he  chuckled  hugely  as  he  clumped  up  the  stairs. 

"I  dunno  whether  my  matchmaking  is  so  tarnal 
bad,  after  all,"  he  reflected.  "She  was  scare't  Ralph 
was  in  trouble  because  she  does  care  for  him — just 
as  sure  as  aigs  is  aigs." 

Perhaps,  too,  it  was  better  for  Lorna  that  she  had 
253 


254  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

to  give  her  attention  just  then  to  the  preparation  of 
a  more  dainty  repast  for  the  invalid  than  Tobias 
could  have  furnished. 

"Poor  Miss  Heppy!"  she  sighed. 

Her  thoughts  reverted  again  to  Ralph.  So,  he 
was  not  poor.  He  did  not  deserve  the  pity  she  had 
been  wasting  on  him.  Or  was  it  wasted? 

The  fact  that  he  had  possibly  not  even  the  reason 
of  poverty  for  entering  into  that  scheme  to  rob  the 
Clinkerport  Bank  did  not,  after  all,  clear  him  of 
suspicion.  Lorna  could  not — as  Tobias  Bassett  did 
— flout  the  evidence  of  the  address  book  and  the 
penknife.  The  atmosphere  was  not  immediately 
cleared  of  doubt. 

The  young  woman  did  not  know  much  about 
judicial  procedure  or  the  laws  governing  circum 
stantial  evidence ;  but  she  was  quite  sure  that  Ralph 
Endicott  would  have  to  explain  away  the  discov 
eries  at  the  bank  that  pointed  so  directly  to  his  par 
ticipation  in  the  burglary. 

And  the  curious  thing  he  had  done  in  leaving 
town!  How  explain  that  mystery? 

He  had  evidently  shipped  his  trunk  and  taken  the 
train  himself  for  New  Bedford ;  yet  he  had  returned 
to  Clinkerport  during  the  evening.  At  daybreak  he 
was  walking  the  railroad  track  at  Peehawket  Cove. 
How  had  he  got  there  from  Clinkerport  ? 

His  putting  to  sea  with  the  avowed  intention  of 
hailing  the  banker  Nelly  G.  capped  the  mystery. 


Understanding  255 

Why  had  he  not  gone  on  with  his  baggage  to  New 
Bedford  and  boarded  the  fishing  schooner  there? 

"And  why?  And  why?  And  why?"  murmured 
Lorna  at  length.  "I  might  ask  myself  these  ques 
tions  from  now  till  doomsday  and  be  none  the 
wiser." 

She  shook  her  head  sadly  as  she  prepared  Miss 
Heppy's  tray.  These  puzzling  queries  were  not  all 
— nor  the  greatest — that  troubled  Lorna  Nicholet. 

The  young  woman  confessed  in  secret  that  more 
than  curiosity  inspired  her  interest  in  Ralph's  asso 
ciation  with  Cora  Devine.  Why  should  her  name 
and  address  have  been  in  his  notebook  if  he  had  not 
a  close  acquaintance  with  her  ? 

From  the  very  first  time  she  had  heard  of  the 
girl  (and  Conny  Degger  had  mentioned  her  slur- 
ringly  in  connection  with  Ralph's  name  more  than  a 
year  before)  Lorna  had  felt  secret  jealousy.  But 
never  until  now  would  she  acknowledge  it. 

This  phase  of  the  mystery  angered  her.  It  was 
that  which  had  caused  her  more  than  anything  else 
to  doubt  Ralph's  honesty  and  good  intentions.  So 
she  still  wondered  if  he  were  not  really  in  trouble 
through  the  Devine  girl  and  if  this  fact  were  not 
behind  his  strange  actions  in  leaving  home.  Even 
if  he  had  no  part  in  the  bank  burglary  (and  of 
course  he  had  not)  Lorna  could  not  absolve  him  of 
possible  disgrace. 

In  addition,  Ralph  might  be  out  on  the  open  sea 


256  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

in  this  gale.  Whether  he  had  stuck  to  the  leaky 
catboat  during  the  night  or  had  managed  to  board 
the  Nelly  G.,  Lorna  feared  for  his  safety.  She 
hoped,  however,  that  he  had  given  up  that  wild 
attempt  to  go  to  the  banks  with  the  fishing  craft 
and  had  made  safe  harbor  before  the  hurricane  had 
risen  to  its  present  height. 

The  staunch  tower  of  the  Twin  Rocks  Light  fair 
ly  quivered  in  the  blast.  Lorna  could  feel  the  vibra 
tion  of  the  spiral  stairway  as  she  mounted  to  Miss 
Heppy's  bedroom. 

"What  a  dreadful  storm!  What  a  dreadful 
storm !"  the  lightkeeper's  sister  moaned  when  Lorna 
came  into  the  room.  "Dear-oh-dear !  Everything 
seems  to  come  on  us  to  once't.  Feel  this  old  stone 
tomb  a-tremble,  Lorna!  When  there's  a  storm  like 
this  I  always  do  dread  trouble.  And  we've  all  got 
trouble  enough  now,  I  do  allow." 

"But,  Miss  Heppy,  it  may  not  be  as  bad  as  you 
think,"  said  the  young  woman,  trying  to  speak 
cheerfully. 

"For  love's  sake!"  was  the  rather  tart  rejoinder. 
"I've  give  up  all  hope  of  ever  getting  our  money 
back.  I  guess  Arad  Thompson  ain't  responsible  for 
burglaries.  And  I  should  think  you'd  be  pretty  well 
worrited  yourself,  Lorna,  over  Ralph  Endicott." 

"Oh!"  gasped  the  girl  in  surprise. 

"Yes.  Tobias  was  in  here  this  morning  and  told 
me  what  Zeke  said.  Ralph — the  foolish  boy! — has 


Understanding  257 

gone  to  sea.  And  in  such  weather !  Oh,  my  dear, 
I  long  since  told  you  why  I'd  never  marry  one  o* 
these  here  longshoremen.  'Them  that  go  down  to 
the  sea  in  ships,'  the  Bible  calls  'em.  Many  of  'em 
go  down  under  the  sea  in  ships — ah,  yes ! 

"Lorna,  you  are  right  to  give  up  Ralph  Endicott. 
Tobias  says  you  ain't.  He  'pears  to  think  you  two 
was  made  for  each  other.  But  if  Ralph  is  so  deter 
mined  about  seagoing  I  don't  wonder  that  you  give 
him  over." 

"But,  Miss  Heppy!"  cried  Lorna,  "I  am  not  at 
all  sure  Ralph  cares  particularly  for  me.  I — I  think 
he  is  all  over  that." 

Miss  Heppy,  sitting  up  in  bed  with  her  nightcap 
awry,  stopped  sipping  her  tea  for  a  moment  to  look 
over  the  cup  at  the  younger  woman. 

"Be  you  blind,  Lorna  Nicholet?"  she  asked. 

"Why,  of  course  not!" 

"You  must  be  if  you  can't  see  that  that  boy  is 
crazy  about  you.  He  goes  mooning  around  here 
like  a  stray  pup.  I  never  did  see  anybody  take  it  so 
hard  as  he  does." 

"Take  what  so  hard?"  demanded  Lorna,  with 
some  exasperation. 

"Your  turning  of  him  down  the  way  you  have," 
rejoined  Miss  Heppy  more  briskly.  "Now,  don't 
say  you  can't  see  it.  Ralph  Endicott  isn't  one  that 
gets  over  a  hurt  easy.  His  feelin's  air  deep.  Your 


258  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

running  about  with  Mr.  Degger  just  about  finished 
Ralph." 

"Why,  Miss  Heppy!"  complained  Lorna,  "you 
are  very  much  mistaken.  He  doesn't  care  anything 
about  me  at  all.  I  know  how  he  acts,  I  hope,  when 
we  are  alone  together " 

"You  give  him  his  orders  long  ago,  didn't  you?" 
said  the  shrewd  old  woman.  "I  heard  you.  Right 
here  in  this  lighthouse." 

"Oh!  You  mean  that  night  we  got  stuck  in  the 
snowdrift?"  The  young  woman  flushed  more  deep 
ly.  "But  I  was  angry.  We  were  both  angry." 

"Uh-huh !"  rejoined  her  friend. 

"And  I  told  you  long  ago  that  I  would  not  allow 
the  family  to  force  me  into  a  marriage  that  I  did 
not  want  and  with  a  man  of  whom  my  heart  did  not 
approve." 

"I  know — I  know,  my  dear,"  said  the  old  woman, 
nodding.  "And  I  am  not  blaming  you.  Besides, 
I  do  think  Mr.  Degger  is  an  awful  friendly  young 
man." 

Lorna  winced  at  this.  Her  head  was  turned  so 
that  Miss  Heppy  could  not  see  her  face. 

"Somehow,  Tobias  don't  seem  to  like  Mr.  Deg 
ger,"  went  on  the  lightkeeper's  sister.  "But  I  never 
did  think  all  the  wisdom  in  the  world  was  lodged 
under  Tobias's  sou'wester.  No,  indeed !  You  have 
a  perfect  right  to  say  no  to  Ralph.  But  that  don't 
keep  me  from  being  sorry  for  him,  just  the  same." 


Understanding  259 

"I  am  quite  sure  you  are  mistaken,  dear  Miss 
Heppy,"  Lorna  rejoined  seriously.  "I  mean  about 
Ralph's  caring  anything  for  me — in  that  way.  Of 
course  we  are  friends.  I — I  should  feel  very  bad  if 
I  thought  he  was  in  danger." 

"And  he  certainly  is,  my  child,  if  he  is  out  in  this 
gale,"  groaned  Miss  Heppy  in  her  most  lachrymose 
manner.  "Ain't  a  mite  o'  doubt  of  that." 

Lorna  carried  away  the  tray,  urging  the  old 
woman  to  remain  in  bed  for  the  day.  Even  if  Miss 
Heppy's  illness  was  mostly  of  the  mind,  resting  in 
bed  would  do  her  more  good  than  any  medicine. 
But  Lorna  was  glad  to  have  the  work  of  clearing  up 
the  house  on  her  hands.  Bodily  exercise  eased  her 
mind. 

Tobias  Bassett  kept  strictly  away  from  the  living 
rooms  for  most  of  the  forenoon.  He  knew  himself 
to  be  in  bad  odor  with  the  black-eyed  girl,  who, 
swathed  in  one  of  Miss  Heppy's  voluminous  aprons, 
briskly  went  about  the  homely  tasks. 

Tobias  came  down  about  noon  for  some  tools. 
He  no  longer  looked  sheepish,  nor  did  he  grin  when 
he  beheld  Lorna's  very  serious  face. 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  this  is  the  worst 
summer  storm  we  ever  had,"  the  lightkeeper  said. 
"I'm  a-getting  anxious,  I  am." 

"Is  there  anything  in  sight,  Tobias?"  she  asked 
him  fearfully. 

"Meaning  any  sail?    I  should  hope  not!    I  don't 


260  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

want  to  see  no  craft  inshore  with  the  wind  in  this 
quarter — nossir!  I'm  in  trouble  'nough,  as  it  is. 
I  never  see  the  beat  on  it.  Just  when  Zeke  is  away, 
too." 

"What  has  happened  ?"  she  asked. 

"I'm  'fraid  one  o'  the  plates  o'  glass  up  there  will 
blow  in.  The  copper  flange  holding  it  is  weakened 
— I  dunno  but  it's  giving  way.  Why!  if  that 
should  happen  we  couldn't  mebbe  light  the  lamp 
to-night.  She'd  blow  out  or  explode." 

"OK,  Tobias!" 

"I've  got  to  try  to  fix  it,"  he  said,  finding  the 
hammer  and  cold  chisel  in  the  cupboard.  "But  it 
ain't  no  one-man  job." 

"Can  I  help  you?"  she  asked. 

"Wai,  ye  might.  If  Heppy  was  only  up  and 
about  she'd  give  me  a  hand." 

"I  can  help  you  just  as  well  as  Miss  Heppy," 
Lorna  declared  with  confidence. 

She  followed  the  old  man  up  the  spiral  stairway 
with  lighter  tread.  The  higher  they  went  the  louder 
in  Lorna's  ears  sounded  the  paean  of  the  gale.  The 
tower  trembled  through  all  its  height.  The  thunder 
of  the  breakers  down  below  was,  too,  a  threatening 
sound. 

They  reached  the  lamp  room.  The  wind  seemed 
to  burst  against  the  glassed  front  of  the  room. 
There  was  such  a  creaking  and  rattling  of  joints 
and  of  window  frames  that  Lorna  was  actually 


Understanding  261 

frightened.  She  cowered  for  a  moment  at  the  back 
of  the  room,  her  hands  over  her  eyes.  If  Ralph 
was  out  in  this  awful  storm ! 

"Here  ye  be,  Lorny!"  shouted  the  lightkeeper. 
"See  if  you  can  give  me  a  hand." 

She  ventured  forward.  At  first  she  scarcely 
dared  look  out  across  the  sea.  The  spectacle  of 
lowering  masses  of  cloud  with  the  white  scud  flying 
beneath  and  the  foaming  billows  racing  landward 
shook  the  girl's  very  soul.  The  drum-beat  of  the 
breakers  at  the  foot  of  the  tower  seemed  to  menace 
it. 

"Oh!  aren't  we  in  danger -up  here?"  she  cried. 
'  "I  cal'late  the  old  Light  will  stand  some  pounding 
yet,"  Tobias  grimly  replied. 

She  read  the  words  on  his  lips  rather  than  heard 
them.  She  dragged  her  attention  from  the  view 
without  to  the  work  of  repair  that  Tobias  was  en 
gaged  in.  The  pressure  of  her  hand  above  and 
below  the  point  on  the  broad  flange  where  he  was 
tapping  was  just  the  aid  needed. 

"That's  it,  Lorny.  You're  as  good  at  a  pinch  as 
ary  boy.  If  we  can  keep  this  sheet  of  glass  from 
shaking  out  of  the  frame " 

"Oh,  Tobias!"  she  gasped,  "it  is  dreadful!  I 
never  imagined  the  power  of  the  wind  was  so  great." 

"I  cal'late  this  is  some  gale,"  he  agreed.  "And  if 
the  wind  don't  shift  before  the  tide  turns,  the  sea's 


262  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

going  to  roll  in  here  clean  across  the  flats.  She'll 
pour  over  the  reefs  in  a  reg'lar  flood." 

"Oh,  never,  Tobias !" 

"I  believe  'twill,"  he  repeated.  "We're  likely  to 
have  such  another  high  tide  as  we  had  in  ninety- 
eight.  Our  cellar  was  full  then,  and  no  mistake." 

"Why,  Tobias  Bassett,  there  isn't  any  cellar  to 
this  lighthouse." 

"Oh,  sugar!  So  there  ain't.  Ne'r  mind.  It 
would  have  been  full  if  we'd  had  a  cellar,"  he 
chuckled.  "And  this  comin'  tide  may  be  like  it. 
It'll  maybe  wash  out  the  shell  road.  It  did  that 
time." 

"Then  I  would  better  hurry  home.  I  may  be 
marooned  here  all  night  if  I  don't." 

"Wai,  maybe  so.  But  you're  welcome  t©  stay, 
and  I  guess  Miss  Ida  won't  worry  none  about  ye." 

When  Lorna  ran  downstairs  she  felt,  after  all, 
that  she  could  not  leave  Tobias  alone  to  fumble  with 
the  housekeeping.  He  had  all  he  could  do  unas 
sisted  to  attend  to  the  light. 

"And  poor  Miss  Heppy  in  bed,"  the  girl  mur 
mured.  "I'll  get  dinner  for  them  anyway  before 
I  go.  An  invalid  would  fare  poorly  in  this  tower 
to-day  with  only  Tobias  about." 

No  staples  were  lacking  in  the  lighthouse  pantry, 
and  Lorna  was  a  capable  housewife.  Her  culinary 
attempts  might  not  match  Miss  Heppy' s,  but  the 
latter  praised  her  willing  helper. 


Understanding  263 

"I  dunno  what  I  should  have  done  without  ye, 
Lorna,"  she  declared.  "I  just  felt  as  though  I  was 
all  in.  I  couldn't  lift  a  finger  to  help  myself,  nor 
Tobias  either." 

"I  am  not  sure  that  you  shouldn't  have  a  doctor, 
even  now,  Miss  Heppy,"  the  younger  woman  ob 
served. 

"For  love's  sake!  What  do  I  want  a  doctor 
messin'  with  me  for  ?  Doctors  air  for  broken  bones 
and  young  children.  Common  sense  is  the  only 
doctor  I've  had  for  a  good  many  years.  And  I 
know  as  well  as  you  do,  Lorna,  that  there  ain't 
nothing  re'lly  the  matter  with  me,  only  worriment. 
I'm  an  old  fool,  and  that's  all  there  is  to  it!  But  it 
does  seem  as  though  I  couldn't  begin  all  over  again, 
saving  the  pennies  and  going  without,  and  stinting 
ourselves.  We'll  end  in  the  poorhouse,  Tobias  and 
me,  like  enough.  Oh,  dear,  oh,  dear!" 

She  concluded  with  a  sob,  and  Lorna  stole  out  of 
the  room.  There  was  nothing  she  could  say  that 
would  really  comfort  Miss  Heppy.  She  had,  as 
Tobias  said,  "let  go  all  holts."  If  the  money  was 
actually  lost,  the  young  woman  pitied  Tobias  as 
much  as  she  did  Miss  Heppy.  The  latter  was  going 
to  be  more  lachrymose  than  ever. 

"Perhaps  Tobias  is  more  than  half  right,"  Lorna 
thought,  as  she  bustled  about  her  work.  "They 
never  have  had  any  good  of  the  money  they  scrimped 
so  hard  to  save ;  or  of  Captain  Jethro's  legacy,  either. 


264  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Just  knowing  it  was  in  the  bank  was  no  very  great 
satisfaction.  And  now  it  isn't!" 

She  prepared  a  hearty  meal  for  Tobias,  who  ate 
gratefully  but  in  a  more  serious  mood  than  he  was 
wont  to  display.  He  went  up  to  the  lamp  room 
again  as  soon  as  the  meal  was  over. 

"There  don't  seem  to  be  any  let-up  in  sight,"  he 
told  Lorna,  "and  I  feel  like  I'd  ought  to  be  right  on 
the  job,  as  the  feller  said." 

She  cleared  away  and  washed  the  dishes.  All  the 
time  the  booming  of  the  breakers  and  the  crash  of 
the  wind  against  the  trembling  light  tower  made 
unhappy  music  in  her  ears. 

She  went  to  the  door  to  look  out.  The  sand  bar 
rens  were  being  most  viciously  beaten  by  both  wind 
and  spray.  She  dreaded  the  walk  back  to  Clay 
Head.  When  she  went  she  thought  she  would  bet 
ter  follow  the  shell  road  even  if  it  was  much  the 
longer  way  home.  Not  a  moving  object  appeared  in 
the  near-by  landscape. 

Suppose  Ralph  had  boarded  the  fishing  schooner? 
It  was  now  probably  far  out  to  sea.  Any  craft 
must  make  a  good  offing  in  such  a  hurricane  to  be 
safe. 

Ralph's  possible  peril  kept  recurring  to  the  girl's 
anxious  mind.  The  accusation  that  he  had  helped 
in  the  bank  burglary  might,  in  the  end,  prove  ridicu 
lous.  But  his  peril  from  the  elements  could  not  be 
gainsaid. 


Understanding  265 

Yes,  she  was  angry  with  Ralph.  He  had  shown, 
she  thought,  little  appreciation  of  her  personal  at 
tractions  that  day  when  they  returned  in  his  motor 
boat  from  Lower  Trillion  after  the  black  squall. 
Lorna  had  been  in  a  tender  mood  that  afternoon 
and  Ralph — he  had  practically  ignored  her ! 

That  she  had  forbidden  him  to  display  any  lover- 
like  attitude  toward  her  did  not  enter  into  Lorna's 
consideration.  There  are  times  when  even  the 
most  practical  young  woman  does  not  expect  a  man 
to  believe  she  means  what  she  says. 

In  addition,  the  spectre  of  Cora  Devine  continu 
ally  rose  in  Lorna's  thoughts.  There  was  a  mystery 
between  Ralph  and  that  girl.  It  had  to  be  explained 
before  Lorna  could  readmit  her  old  friend  to  her 
confidence. 

When  Lorna  climbed  the  stairs  once  more  to  the 
lamp  room  it  was  mid-afternoon,  and  she  realized 
that  darkness  would  shut  down  very  early  upon  sea 
and  land.  Already  Miss  Heppy's  chickens  had  gone 
to  roost.  Lorna  had  beaten  her  way  out  to  the  coop 
to  feed  them  and  found  them  cowering  upon  their 
perches.  There  was  the  element  of  threatening  dis 
aster  in  the  very  air. 

As  she  came  up  into  the  lamp  room  the  turmoil 
of  the  gale  seemed  to  have  increased  tenfold.  One 
could  not  have  stood  in  safety  upon  the  narrow  gal 
lery  outside  the  windows. 

Tobias  had  his  old-fashioned  "captain's  glass"  to 


266  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

his  eye — an  ancient  telescope  that  had  been  round 
the  world  on  many  a  voyage — and  held  it  focused 
on  a  point  some  miles  to  the  southward. 

"What  is  it,  Tobias?"  Lorna  asked,  coming  close 
to  him  before  he  realized  her  presence. 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  it  is  a  craft  of  some 
kind,  and  she's  making  heavy  weather  of  it.  But 
I  can't  make  out  if  it's  a  two-stick  or  a  three-stick 
vessel.  Seems  to  have  lost  some  of  her  gear  for- 
'ard." 

He  allowed  Lorna  to  take  the  heavy  glass  and 
aided  her  to  fix  upon  the  exact  spot  where,  now  and 
then,  the  masts  of  the  laboring  vessel  heaved  into 
view. 

"Is  she  in  danger,  do  you  think,  Tobias?"  Lorna 
asked. 

The  question  was  expressed  in  her  countenance, 
and  Tobias  nodded.  "Naterally !"  he  mouthed  with 
vigor.  "Any  sort  o'  craft  is  in  danger  so  near  shore. 
I  warrant  the  boys  air  watchin'  her  down  to  Lower 
Trillion.  She's  about  off  their  station  now. 

"Come  on,"  he  added,  putting  the  glass  away  in 
its  beckets  and  starting  for  the  hatchway.  "Let's 
go  below  for  a  spell."  He  did  not  want  the  girl  to 
watch  that  staggering,  gale-buffeted  craft  out  there. 
"I  feel  sort  o'  famished  for  a  cup  o'  something  hot. 
Heppy  usually  has  her  teapot  on  the  stove  about  this 
time,  and  she's  gettin'  me  purt'  near  broke  in  to 
liking  that  old  maid's  tipple,"  and  he  chuckled. 


Understanding  267 

But  when  they  descended  to  the  kitchen  Tobias 
chanced  to  peer  out  of  the  window  overlooking  the 
road  first  of  all.  He  ejaculated: 

"My  soul  and  body !  what's  come  to  pass  now,  I 
want  to  know?" 

Lorna  ran  to  look  over  his  shoulder.  The  big 
blue  limousine  belonging  to  the  bank  president  had 
just  halted  before  the  lighthouse.  The  shabbily 
dressed  detective  was  getting  out. 

"Oh!"  Lorna  cried.  "What  can  he  want  here 
again?" 

"I  cal'late  he  thinks  this  is  a  bubblin'  fount  of 
information,"  grumbled  Tobias.  "Huh !  But  maybe 
we'll  Tarn  more  than  he  does,  Lorny." 

They  did.  The  detective  entered  unsmilingly 
when  the  lightkeeper  opened  the  door. 

"Have  you  heard  anything  more  of  that  young 
Endicott?"  he  asked  Tobias,  merely  nodding  to  the 
young  woman. 

"Wai,  nothing  that  ye  might  call  authoritative," 
the  old  man  said  slowly.  "There's  rumors " 

"Yes.  We've  run  some  of  them  down.  He  was 
mixed  up  in  that  break  at  the  bank  as  sure  as  guns," 
the  detective  interposed  with  much  assurance. 

"Oh!"  gasped  Lorna,  sitting  down  suddenly. 

The  man  flashed  a  glance  at  her  that  seemed  ques 
tioning;  but  he  continued  to  address  Tobias. 

"We  have  learned  that  he  is  a  pretty  shrewd  fel- 


268  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

low — up  to  a  certain  point.  All  these  crooks  fall 
down  at  some  place  or  another." 

Again  Lorna  spoke.  "How  dare  you?"  she  de 
manded,  but  under  her  breath. 

The  man  gave  her  another  swift  glance  but  made 
her  no  reply.  He  went  on  coolly  to  Tobias : 

"He  planned  his  alibi  with  some  smartness. 
Shipped  his  trunk  to  a  New  Bedford  wharf  where  a 
fishing  schooner  called  the  Nelly  G.  was  tied  up. 
Sent  it  on  his  ticket.  But  he  slipped  off  the  train 
and  came  back  to  Clinkerport  in  the  evening.  This 
was  the  night  of  the  robbery,  you  understand." 

"How  do  you  know  all  this?"  demanded  the 
young  woman,  with  strong  emotion. 

"Well,  the  chap  that  first  put  me  wise  to  it  was  a 
fellow  named  Degger.  Stopping  at  the  hotel  in 
town.  Oh,  he  knows  Endicott  well,"  added  the  de 
tective  confidently.  "Went  to  college  with  him. 
That's  where  the  boys  show  up  their  real  characters 
oftentimes.  They're  away  from  home  and  cut 
loose  from  mamma's  apron-strings.  This  Endicott 
certainly  was  a  cut-up  at  Cambridge." 

"So  Degger  says,  eh?"  muttered  the  lightkeeper. 

"Oh,  he  only  gave  me  the  first  steer.  I  soon  beat 
up  further  evidence.  And,  anyway,  he  was  back  in 
Clinkerport  late  that  evening,"  added  the  detective. 
"He  was  seen  by  more  than  one.  It  seems  Endicott 
had  about  five  hundred  dollars  in  the  bank.  He 
could  not  check  it  out  over  the  bank  counter  so  late, 


Understanding  269 

but  he  got  the  postmaster  to  cash  his  check  for  that 
sum." 

"Five  hundred  dollars?"  murmured  Tobias.  "Oh, 
sugar!  That's  a  mort  o'  money  to«take  with  him 
on  a  fishing  v'y'ge.  Humph!" 

"He's  got  more  than  that  with  him,"  said  the 
other  grimly.  "But  that's  the  reason  he  and  his 
friends  didn't  blow  the  post-office  safe.  There  was 
nothing  left  in  it  but  the  stamps.  That  young 
sharper  cleaned  up  all  the  cash  the  postmaster  hap 
pened  to  have  on  hand." 

"Humph !"  again  repeated  Tobias.  "So  he  did  all 
that,  did  he?  And  then?" 

"Don't  fret,"  said  the  detective  airily.  "We  know 
about  everything  he  did  in  Clinkerport  that  evening 
before  the  bank  burglary.  Yes,  sir.  He  sent  a 
registered  package — let's  see?  Yes,  here's  the  ad 
dress.  Do  either  of  you  know  this  woman?" 

He  thrust  forward  a  card  which  he  took  from  his 
vest  pocket.  Tobias  did  not  offer  to  accept  it,  but 
Lorna  leaned  forward  and  repeated  aloud  the  name 
and  address: 

"  'Miss  Cora  Devine,  27  Canstony  Street,  Charles- 
town,  Mass.' ' 

"There's  always  some  woman  mixed  up  in  these 
affairs.  This  Devine  girl  is  probably  a  crook's  light 
o'  love.  I've  put  our  Boston  office  onto  her.  Oh, 
we'll  round  up  the  whole  gang  before  we  get 
through." 


270  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"How  about  rounding  up  the  money  that  was 
stole?"  demanded  Tobias  with  some  disgust. 
"Seems  to  me  that'd  be  more  to  the  p'int." 

"Don't  you  worry  about  that,  either,  old  scout," 
said  the  detective.  "We  know  where  a  part  of  the 
money  is  all  right — the  biggest  share  of  it  in  all 
probability." 

"Huh?    Where?" 

"In  that  suitcase  this  gay  young  Endicott  took 
aboard  that  catboat  down  to  Peehawket  Cove," 
snapped  the  other. 

"Oh,  sugar!" 

"And  where  is  he  and  that  catboat?"  ventured 
Lorna,  in  a  very  small  voice. 

"According  to  report,  the  catboat  is  a  wreck  down 
there  on  what  is  called  the  jaw  of  Cape  Fisher." 

"Now,  now,  Lorny!"  exclaimed  Tobias,  rising 
suddenly  and  going  around  the  table  to  the  young 
woman's  side.  "Don't  you  believe  it!" 

"Oh,  to  the  best  of  my  belief,"  the  detective  has 
tened  to  say,  "Endicott  abandoned  the  catboat. 
Over  the  long-distance  'phone,  by  way  of  Harbor 
Bar,  I  got  the  tip  that  Endicott  did  board  that  fishing 
boat,  the  Nelly  G.  I  understand  she  is  bound  for  the 
Grand  Banks.  That  was  his  scheme  for  an  alibi. 
He  thought  himself  pretty  shrewd,  no  doubt.  But 
we'll  get  him  yet." 

"You're  sure  o'  that,  be  ye  ?"  sighed  Tobias. 


Understanding  271 

"Well,  I'd  bet  money  on  it,"  rejoined  the  man 
with  confidence. 

"So  he  got  aboard  the  Nelly  G.  after  all?"  rumi 
nated  Tobias. 

"He  was  seen  to  by  two  witnesses.  He  had  to 
abandon  the  catboat,  the  sea  was  so  heavy.  It  was 
just  before  dark  last  evening." 

"Oh!"  and  the  lightkeeper  comfortingly  patted 
Lorna's  shoulder.  "Then  she's  well  on  her  way  to 
the  banks.  Of  course." 

"Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  said  the  detective. 
"That  is  what  brings  me  down  this  way.  I  am  on 
my  way  to  the  Lower  Trillion  life-saving  station.  It 
is  reported  that  the  Netty  G.  is  in  trouble  somewhere 
off  there.  The  wires  are  down,  so  that  we  could 
not  communicate  with  the  station  direct.  But  a  fel 
low  was  up  from  Peehawket — that  old  fellow  that 
owned  the  catboat — and  he  came  to  the  bank  and 
told  Mr.  Thompson." 

"You  mean  to  say,"  Tobias  asked  hoarsely,  "that, 
the  schooner's  in  trouble  ?  This  schooner  that  Ralph 
Endicott  boarded?" 

"That's  what  I'm  trying  to  tell  you.  What's  the 
matter  with  that  girl?" 

Tobias  with  flushed  visage  and  angry  eyes  faced 
the  detective.  Lorna  sat  rigidly  in  the  chair,  her 
eyes  closed,  her  face  pallid. 

"What  did  Gyp  Pellet  say?  What's  the  matter 
with  the  Nelly  G.?"  demanded  the  lightkeeper. 


272  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"She  has  been  beating  off  and  on  all  night  and  to 
day.  She  has  got  distress  signals  flying.  I  am  going 
down  there  to  find  out  what  it  means.  I  guess  that 
Endicott  fellow  won't  get  so  far  away,  after  all." 

Tobias  took  both  the  small  hands  of  the  girl  in 
his  big  one.  He  leaned  above  her,  patting  her  shoul 
der  tenderly.  There  was  'understanding  in  his  atti 
tude,  as  there  was  at  last  in  Lorna's  heart. 

She  no  longer  could  deny  the  truth.  Ralph  Endi 
cott  was  in  dire  peril  if  the  Nelly  G.  was  threatened 
with  disaster.  And  she  could  not  hide  the  fact  that 
she  loved  him ! 


CHAPTER  XXV 

ACROSS  THE  YEARS 

THE  Nicholets  and  the  Endicotts  had  been  sworn 
allies  for  generations.  Their  genealogical  roots 
were  entwined  in  early  Massachusetts  Bay  history. 
Their  forebears  had  perhaps  helped  each  other 
burn  witches  and  slaughter  Indians  in  the  ancient 
days.  Basicly  the  families  were  even  now  as  puri 
tanical  as  the  Sacred  Codfish. 

Yet  under  ordinary  circumstances  the  Endicotts 
and  the  Nicholets,  although  living  side  by  side, 
would  seldom  think  of  interfering  in — or  even  dis 
cussing — each  other's  private  affairs.  New  England 
people  are  that  way — the  better  class.  Without 
being  invited  to  do  so  Miss  Ida  would  not  have  con 
cerned  herself  in  the  Endicotts'  financial  difficulties 
except  in  this  extraordinary  situation. 

The  shocking  story  that  Lorna  had  brought  home 
— this  utterly  preposterous  accusation  against  Ralph 
— quite  startled  Miss  Ida  out  of  the  rut  of  usage. 
Although  she  had  been  consulted  in  their  trouble  by 
no  member  of  the  Endicott  family,  she  felt  that  she 
must  offer  sympathy  and — if  possible — assistance. 
Although  she  seldom  troubled  her  mind  about  finan- 

273 


274  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

cial  affairs — leaving  those  details  to  her  brother — 
Miss  Ida  was  really  the  head  of  the  Nicholet  family. 
The  bulk  of  the  family  wealth  was  hers,  as  well  as 
the  homestead  at  Harbor  Bar. 

She  was  in  a  position  therefore  to  aid  Henry  En- 
dicott  privately,  were  he  in  need — as  she  believed  he 
was.  The  professor's  awkwardness  when  he  had 
called  on  her  several  evenings  previous,  when  he 
had  really  come  to  offer  his  assistance  to  Lorna's 
father,  had  served  to  convince  Miss  Ida  that  the 
Endicotts  were  in  need. 

For  years  everybody  who  knew  him  had  said  that 
Professor  Endicott  was  wasting  his  substance  in 
experiments  that  would  never  amount  to  anything 
of  a  practical  nature.  Miss  Ida  herself  believed  that 
he  had  frittered  away  much  time  and  money  since 
resigning  as  a  young  man  from  the  chair  of  experi 
mental  chemistry  in  a  mid-New  England  college. 

Just  what  had  happened  twenty  and  more  years 
before  this  present  date  to  drive  the  wedge  between 
Miss  Ida  and  Henry  Endicott  no  member  of  either 
family  knew.  A  match  that  at  the  time  was  con 
sidered  eminently  fitting  had  suddenly  become  im 
possible.  That  was  all  anybody — save  the  two  most 
interested  persons  themselves — ever  learned  about  it. 

It  was  years  later,  when  Ralph  and  Lorna  were 
half  grown,  that  Professor  Endicott  and  Miss  Ida 
Nicholet  began  to  agree  on  one  important  subject. 
The  two  families  should  be  united  through  Ralph 


Across  the  Years  275 

and  Lorna.    The  young  people,  they  both  said,  were 
made  for  each  other. 

That  this  statement  had  likewise  been  made  en 
famille  about  themselves  when  they  were  young, 
Miss  Ida  and  Henry  Endicott  perhaps  had  forgot 
ten.  At  least — as  has  been  shown — neither  would 
admit  to  nephew  and  niece  any  good  reason  why  the 
latter  should  not  fulfill  the  arrangement. 

On  this  particular  morning  Miss  Ida  was  not 
thinking  of  her  niece's  opposition  to  being  joined 
with  Ralph  Endicott  in  wedlock.  She  flung  a  shawl 
about  her  shoulders  and  wound  a  knitted  scarf 
around  her  head  to  venture  out  into  the  gale.  A  less 
important  errand  than  the  one  she  had  in  view  might 
have  caused  her  to  hesitate  on  the  side  porch.  The 
gale  off  the  water  was  all  but  breath-taking. 

On  a  day  like  this  Mrs.  Lucy  Markham  would  not 
leave  her  own  apartment.  The  children  would  be 
in  the  playroom  at  the  top  of  the  house,  as  they  could 
not  race  the  beaches  below  the  clay  cliff.  Professor 
Endicott  ? 

Miss  Ida  saw  Jerome  coming  from  the  direction 
of  the  stable  and  garage,  the  main  part  of  which 
building  was  devoted  to  the  experimental  labora 
tory.  So  she  did  not  go  to  the  house,  but  halted 
the  old  serving  man  on  the  walk. 

"Where  is  Professor  Endicott,  Jerome?" 

"He's  in  his  study — I  mean  the  laboratory,  Miss 


276  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Nicholet.    He's  just  had  me  in  to  shave  him,  Miss. 
Isn't  this  a  dreadful  morning?" 

"I  wish  to  see  the  professor  at  once,  Jerome," 
said  Miss  Ida,  and  hurried  on  without  rejoinder  to 
his  question,  such  was  her  agitation. 

When  she  turned  the  knob  of  the  door  the  wind 
drove  both  the  door  and  herself  inward  with  a 
crash. 

"Hoity-toity!  What's  this?"  ejaculated  the  pro 
fessor. 

He  stood  at  the  sink  with  a  towel  in  both  hands, 
wiping  his  face  dry  after  applying  the  shaving  em 
brocation.  He  stared  at  his  visitor  over  this  towel 
as  though  she  were  an  apparition. 

"Miss  Ida?  My  goodness!  Let  me  shut  the 
door."  He  sprang  to  it  and  put  a  sturdy  shoulder 
to  the  barrier,  for  he  was  no  weakling.  "Do  sit 
down,  Ida.  You  are  all  out  of  breath.  What  has 
happened?" 

He  aided  her  to  the  swivel  chair  which  stood  be 
fore  the  desk  he  sometimes  used.  At  first  glance 
Miss  Ida's  fingers  itched  to  set  it  to  rights.  It  was 
heaped  with  papers  and  books  and  retorts  and 
glasses,  as  well  as  a  multitude  of  riffraff. 

Professor  Endicott  stood  off  from  her  and  stared. 
He  was  without  coat  or  vest.  There  was  a  much 
warmer  expression  in  his  eyes  now  that  they  were 
not  veiled  by  the  shell-rimmed  spectacles  he  usually 
wore. 


Across  the  Years  277 

"What  has  happened,  Ida?"  he  asked  again. 

"It  is  about  Ralph,"  she  told  him,  having  recov 
ered  her  breath  if  not  her  tranquillity. 

"Oh?    Yes.     Ralph,"  he  murmured. 

He  looked  puzzled,  but  he  searched  and  found 
among  the  papers  on  the  desk  an  unfolded  letter 
("How  could  he  place  it  in  that  mess?"  was  Miss 
Ida's  thought)  and  looked  at  it  attentively. 

"I  found  this  tucked  under  the  door  after  Ralph 
had  gone  away,  it  seems.  To  tell  the  truth,  Ida,  I 
have  been  too  deeply  engaged  recently  to  attend  to 
any  exterior  matters.  Let  us  see,  when  was  it  I 
saw  you  last?  Has  John  returned  from  Boston?" 

"No,  John  has  not  returned,"  she  said  coldly.  "I 
know  you  have  shut  yourself  up  here.  I  do  not  see 
how  you  dare  make  a  recluse  of  yourself.  How  do 
you  know  what  is  happening  to  your  family?" 

"Oh !    I There  is  Cousin  Luce,  you  know." 

"Yes.  I  know  and  you  know  just  how  much  of  a 
housekeeper  and  manager  she  is!"  ejaculated  Miss 
Ida.  "It  cannot  truthfully  be  said  that  Lucy  Mark- 
ham  neglects  your  brother's  family — and  you.  For 
she  never  in  this  world  paid  any  attention  to  such  a 
duty.  How  you  expect  the  younger  children  will 
grow  up " 

"Oh,  now,  Ida.  They  seem  to  get  along  very 
well,"  he  demurred.  "Healthy  and  happy  and  all 

that.  And  Ralph By  the  way,  this  letter  now 

1  have  neglected  something  which  he  reminds 


278  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

me  of  in  this.  But,  believe  me,  these  final  experi 
ments  have  been  most  enthralling. 

"You  must  know,  my  dear  Ida,  that  I  have  been 
associating  myself  with  certain  government  chem 
ists.  They  come  to  me  when  they  can  get  no  fur 
ther  in  their  experiments.  We  have  finally  completed 
a  chemical  formula  that  will  revolutionize  the  ex 
pansion  of  balloons — if  you  know  what  I  mean?  It 
is  a  lighter  and  positively  un-inflammable  gas. 

"My  royalties  will  be  rather  large.  Not  that  I 
have  aided  our  government  solely  for  a  monetary 
consideration,"  he  added  parenthetically.  "But 
our  income  will  be  quite  doubled  by  these  royalties  I 
have  agreed  to  accept." 

"What  ?"  gasped  Miss  Ida,  so  astounded  that  she 
was  more  than  abrupt.  "You  say — you  make 
money — from  these — these ?" 

She  stared  around  at  the  littered  place.  Mentally, 
on  entering,  she  had  called  it  a  pig-sty! 

"Oh,  yes.  I  have  made  quite  a  lot  of  money  in 
the  past.  Much  more  than  I  ever  could  have  ob 
tained  from  a  salaried  position.  But  nothing  like 
these  royalties  from  this  last  invention.  Of  course, 
it  is  commercial,  in  a  way,  and  the  Endicotts  have 
never  been  commercially  inclined.  But,  then " 

"Henry  Endicott!"  she  breathed,  "then  you  are 
not  in — in  financial  difficulties?" 

"Financial  difficulties?  Not  at  all!  Not  at  all! 
Far  from  it,  I  may  confidently  say.  Indeed,  my 


Across  the  Years  279 

dear  Ida,"  and  he  flushed  painfully,  "I  am  so  situ 
ated  that  if  you — if  John That  is,  if  you  would 

allow  me,  as  an  old  and  tried  friend " 

"Well?"  demanded  Miss  Ida,  sitting  very  straight 
in  the  chair  and  looking  at  him  most  uncompromis 
ingly  it  seemed. 

"Why,  I You  see,  my  nephew  says  here,"  the 

professor  hastily  went  on,  referring  to  the  paper  in 
his  hand.  "Ahem!  Let  me  see.  Yes.  'I  am 
going  on  a  voyage  with  Captain  Bob  Pritchett  on 
the  Nelly  G.  No!  That  is  not  the  place.  Oh, 
here:  'Look  out  for  Lorna,  Uncle  Henry.  See  her 
father  just  as  soon  as  he  gets  home.  If  they  need 
help  you  know  whatever  I  have  they  are  welcome 
to.' " 

Miss  Ida  rose  to  her  feet  in  a  flame  of  indigna 
tion. 

"What  under  the  sun  does  the  boy  mean?"  she 
asked  haughtily.  "Such  impudence!  Does  that 
mean,  Henry,  that  Ralph  has  defaulted  in  the  un 
derstood  arrangement  that  he  and  Lorna  were  to 
marry?  I  thought  that  it  was  entirely  my  niece's 
fault  that  her  engagement  to  Ralph  was  not  yet 
announced." 

"Does  that  sound  cold,  Ida?"  rejoined  the  pro 
fessor  earnestly.  "The  boy  offers  all  he  possesses 
to  help  Lorna — and  you — in  your  trouble." 

"Our  trouble!  What  trouble?  I  do  not  know 
what  you  mean." 


280  Tobias  O'  the  Light 

The  professor  broke  through  his  restraint  at  last. 
Ralph's  letter  fluttered  to  the  floor.  He  seized 
Miss  Ida's  hands. 

"There,  there !"  he  said.  "We  know  all  about  it, 
Ida.  Nobody  can  feel  more  sympathy  for  you  than 
Ralph  and  I.  I  hoped  to  see  John  Nicholet  and  talk 
it  over  with  him.  It  would  have  been  easier — for 
both  you  and  me. 

"This  is  something  that  you  cannot  bear  alone, 
Ida.  Let  me  help.  God  knows  I,  like  my  nephew, 
and  for  a  greater  reason,  would  gladly  give  you 
every  cent  of  my  personal  fortune " 

"Henry  Endicott !"  she  finally  gasped  vehemently. 
"Do  you  think  we  need  financial  assistance?" 

But  she  did  not  withdraw  her  hands  from  his 
grasp.  She  looked  into  his  face  (she  was  almost  as 
tall  as  he  was)  with  a  strangely  tender  expression 
flooding  her  own  countenance. 

"So  the  story  goes,  Ida,"  he  said  gently.  "Hasn't 
John  met  with  some  heavy  losses?  Or  don't  you 
know  about  it?" 

"Nothing  of  the  kind !"  she  cried.  "It  is  ridicu 
lous.  And  you Why !  we  were  told Where 

could  Lorna  have  heard  it?  We  believed  you  had 
lost  the  greater  part  of  your  property.  I  came  over 
here  this  morning  to  offer  assistance.  I  was  afraid 
you  had  shut  yourself  up  here  in  this  awful  place, 
worrying  over  your  losses.  Oh,  Henry !" 

Suddenly  he  smiled.     Like  Ralph's,  the  profes- 


Across  the  Years  281 

sor's  smile  was  a  most  winning  one.  But  it  was  not 
wholly  the  warmth  of  that  smile  that  drew  the 
woman  closer  to  him. 

"Ida,"  he  said,  in  some  wonderment,  "would  you 
have  done  that  for  me?" 

"We — we  have  been  friends  so  many  years, 
Henry." 

The  flush  in  her  cheek  was  like  a  girl's,  but  she 
did  not  drop  her  gaze.  She  met  his  look  squarely. 

"So  many  wasted  years,  Ida,"  the  man  repeated 
softly. 

"You  don't  seem  to  have  wasted  them  after  all, 
Henry,"  she  breathed.  "I  only  thought  you  were  a 
waster.  You  know  I  always  did  despise  any  person 
who,  in  this  busy  and  needy  world,  was  non-pro 
ductive." 

Professor  Endicott  glanced  about  the  laboratory. 
He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"All  this  is  vanity,  Ida,"  he  said.  "Financial  gain 
is  a  very  small  part  of  life.  We  have  existed,  you 
and  I,  that  is  all — merely  vegetated.  What  we 
should  have  had — what  was  meant  for  us — has  been 
lost.  We  are  bankrupt,  Ida." 

"No,  no!" 

His  grasp  of  her  hands  relaxed.  Her  left  hand 
stole  up,  up — -across  his  shoulder  and  around  his 
neck.  She  pressed  against  him  and  at  last  her  gaze 
fell. 


282  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"No,  no!"  she  whispered.  "Not  bankrupt,  Henry. 
It  is  not  too  late " 

A  little  later  Miss  Ida  raised  her  head  from  the 
professor's  shoulder.  Her  eyes  were  tear-drenched, 
but  her  smile  was  warm. 

"Henry,"  she  said,  "I  had  forgotten.  Do  you 
know  that  they  accuse  Ralph  of  helping  to  rob  the 
Clinkerport  Bank?" 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

HIGH  TIDE 

TOBIAS  BASSETT  for  probably  the  second  time  in 
his  life  (the  first  occasion  was  when  Con  way  Deg- 
ger  left  the  Twin  Rocks  Light)  did  not  urge  his 
visitor  to  lengthen  his  call.  He  followed  the  detec 
tive  outside  the  door,  however,  and  watched  Rafe 
Silver  get  the  blue  limousine  under  way  for  Lower 
Trillion. 

"I  hope  I  see  the  last  of  you  in  this  neighborhood 
right  now,"  muttered  the  lightkeeper,  referring  to 
the  detective.  "You're  a  Jonah,  that's  what  you 
are." 

He  went  around  to  the  exposed  side  of  the  tower 
and  faced  the  wind,  sheltering  his  eyes  with  his  hand 
from  flying  spray  and  sand.  He  peered  seaward. 

"It's  comin',"  he  thought.  "I  give  it  as  my 
opinion  that  she's  going  to  be  a  humdinger  of  a  tide. 
Why,  right  now  it's  above  usual  high-water  mark, 
and  'tis  still  two  hours  and  more  to  full  sea.  It's 
comin'. 

"And  that  schooner — if  that  is  the  Nelly  G.  we 
spied  off  to  the  south'ard — she's  in  a  bad  fix. 

283 


284  Tobias  o7  the  Light 

No  doubt  on't.  Oh,  sugar!  I  wish  that  gal  hadn't 
peeked  through  the  old  telescope  and  seen  her." 

He  rather  dreaded  to  return  to  the  kitchen  and 
face  Lorna.  Of  course,  he  was  free  to  admit,  the 
girl  had  not  shown  that  she  really  loved  Ralph  En- 
dicott.  For  old  time's  sake,  he  told  himself,  she' 
would  be  anxious  for  the  young  man's  fate.  But 
thus  far  she  had  not  appeared  as  warmly  interested 
in  the  absent  man  as  the  lightkeeper  wanted  her  to 
be.  Yet,  somehow,  Tobias  felt  if  actual  peril  threat 
ened  Ralph,  the  girl  "would  take  a  tumble  to  her 
self."  So  he  expressed  it. 

"Oh,  sugar,  yes !"  he  muttered.  "She  don't  know 
just  where  she  stands,  that  is  all  the  trouble.  It 
can't  be  possible  them  two  young  folks  is  going  to 
drift  apart  same  as  Miss  Ida  and  the  professor  did 
years  ago — nossir!  I  ain't  goin'  to  let  'em!" 

Just  how  he  expected  to  bring  about  the  greatly- 
to-be-desired  match  he  did  not  clearly  see.  He  had 
stirred  pity  in  Lorna's  heart  for  Ralph  when  he  had 
suggested  to  her  that  the  Endicotts  had  lost  their 
wealth.  Now  that  she  knew  this  was  not  so,  he 
wondered  if  the  reaction  in  Lorna's  mind  would  be 
disastrous  for  his  matchmaking  schemes.  Pity  was 
only  akin  to  love  sometimes. 

"But,  sugar!  It  don't  always  work  out  right,  I 
do  allow,"  grieved  Tobias,  wagging  his  head. 
"Women  air  ornery,  I  vum!  Mebbe  Lorna  will 


High  Tide  285 

turn  right  around  t'other  way  and  blame  Ralph  for 
what  I  done." 

He  returned  to  the  kitchen  therefore  with  lagging 
steps.  Lorna  was  not  there.  It  was  growing  dusk 
outside.  On  a  night  like  this  he  often  lit  the  lamp 
a  little  early.  He  would  do  so  now— and  had  rea 
son,  with  that  craft  he  had  spied  wallowing  in  the 
offing. 

He  walked  through  the  kitchen  to  the  hall  and 
started  up  the  spiral  stairway.  He  presumed  Lorna 
was  with  Miss  Heppy.  But  when  he  came  to  the 
first  landing  he  distinctly  heard  a  sound  from  the 
best  chamber,  the  door  of  which  was  ajar. 

He  hesitated.  It  came  again — the  sound  of  a 
half-stifled  sob  and  a  murmured  word.  The  old 
lightkeeper's  heart  was  wrung  with  sympathy.  He 
crept  to  the  door. 

It  was  Lorna.  She  had  flung  herself  down  beside 
the  bed,  her  face  hidden  in  her  arms.  Her  shoul 
ders  quivered  under  the  throe  of  her  sobs.  She  was 
more  wrought  upon  by  emotion  than  Tobias  had 
ever  before  seen  her! 

Kindly  impulse  urged  the  old  man  to  enter  and 
offer  encouragement.  His  better  judgment,  how 
ever,  held  him  back.  He  quite  knew  Lorna's  nature. 
To  display  her  deeper  feelings  in  public  had  always 
been  abhorrent  to  the  girl. 

The  emotion  that  racked  her  now,  Tobias  real 
ized,  stirred  Lorna's  nature  to  its  very  dregs.  As 


286  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

she  rocked  on  her  knees  beside  the  bed,  a  cry  burst 
from  her  lips  which  held  the  old  man  back : 

"God,  bring  him  back!  Ralph!  Ralph!  Save 
him,  dear  God,  for — for  I  love  him!  I  love  him 
so!" 

The  passion  of  tears  that  followed  brought  a 
lump  into  the  lightkeeper's  throat  that  all  but  choked 
him,  while  the  salt  drops  stung  his  eyelids.  He 
backed  away  from  the  bedroom  door  and  tiptoed  to 
the  stairs. 

He  mounted  softly  to  the  lamp  room.  He  felt 
that  he  had  somehow  been  indelicate  in  listening  to 
that  cry  of  the  girl's  burdened  heart.  He  had  looked 
upon  something  which  she  had  wished  to  keep  hid 
den — a  secret  that  Lorna  had  heretofore  denied. 

Tobias's  weather-blown  face  was  puckered  into  a 
very  serious  expression.  Used  as  he  was  to  the  sea 
and  sea-going,  having  taken  a  man's  part  in  the 
trade  all  his  days,  Ralph's  peril  aboard  the  Nelly  G. 
seemed  a  matter  of  course  in  his  mind.  His  sister's 
inbred  terror  of  the  sea  (shared  by  so  many  long 
shore  women)  made  little  impression  on  Tobias 
Bassett. 

But  the  sudden  revelation  of  Lorna's  despair 
shook  his  calmness.  He  had  loved  her  ever  since 
she  and  Ralph  had  toddled  along  the  beach  in  romp 
ers,  each  clinging  to  one  of  his  hairy,  tar-stained 
fingers.  Now  that  she  had  grown  to  beautiful 
womanhood  he  was  both  fond  of  her  and  proud  of 


High  Tide  287 

her  and  had  always  considered  that  her  growth  and 
advancement  was  partly  due  to  his  watchful  care 
during  the  long  summers  she  had  played  along  the 
beach. 

Her  deep  concern  now  because  of  the  gale  and  its 
threat  began  strongly  to  affect  the  lightkeeper. 
Under  the  depression  of  his  discovery  Tobias  forgot 
to  exult  that  at  least  half  his  matchmaking  plans 
had  come  to  fruition.  Lorna  loved  Ralph! 

If  that  was  the  Nelly  G,  out  yonder — and  he  be 
lieved  it  was — and  if  Ralph  was  aboard  her,  what 
could  he  do  to  avert  a  calamity?  Aside  from  his 
personal  feeling  for  Ralph  Endicott,  the  thought 
that  Lorna  was  suffering,  sobbing  and  praying  in 
that  whitewashed  cell  downstairs  fanned  into  flame 
the  lightkeeper's  desire  to  help. 

What  could  he  do? 

Tobias  shook  his  head  doubtfully.  He  took  down 
the  long  telescope  from  its  beckets  against  the  rear 
wall  of  the  lamp  room  and  went  forward  to  the 
great  window.  He  had  tightened  the  broad  flanges 
that  held  the  panes  in  place  so  that  they  no  longer 
rattled.  But  there  was  no  lessening  of  the  voice  of 
the  gale.  The  rush  of  the  wind  past  the  vibrating 
tower  still  sounded  a  threatening  tocsin. 

Tobias  adjusted  the  spy  glass  and  focused  it  with 
practiced  hand  and  eye  upon  the  spot  where  the 
tossing  masts  of  the  laboring  vessel  heaved  ever  and 
anon  into  view.  There  was  some  lower  canvas  set 


288  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

The  craft  was  beating  up  the  coast  and  was  already 
much  nearer  the  lighthouse  than  when  he  had  last 
viewed  it. 

"She  must  be  the  Nelly  G.,"  muttered  the  light- 
keeper.  "Ain't  no  two  ways  about  it.  But  what 
can  have  happened  to  her  ?  Bob  Pritchett  is  a  purt' 
good  navigator,  I  do  allow.  I  don't  see,  after  he 
picked  up  Ralph  (that  must  ha'  been  arranged  be 
tween  'em  by  telegraph)  why  the  Nelly  G.  didn't  go 
kiting  out  to  sea,  this  gale  comin'  so  plain  and  all ! 

"It's  a  puzzle.  Mm-m!  Easy  enough  to  see, 
though,  why  the  crew  at  Lower  Trillion  ain't  done 
nothing  for  her  even  if  she  is  showing  distress  sig 
nals.  Puttin'  out  their  old  lifeboat  in  the  teeth  of 
this  wind  would  be  just  about  suicidal,  I  give  it  as 
my  opinion. 

"Now,  if  she  continues  to  beat  up  this  way  and 
can  claw  off  the  Twin  Rocks  here,  she  might  make 
the  mouth  of  the  bay  in  safety.  Yep,  I  cal'late  that 
is  what  Bob  Pritchett  is  figgerin'  on  doing. 

"He  couldn't  make  the  breach  at  Lower  Trillion. 
It's  too  narrow.  But  if  he  can  win  past  these  reefs 
here  and  get  into  Clinkerport  Bay,  the  Nelly  G.  will 
be  as  snug  as  a  bug  in  a  rug.  That's  whatever !" 

The  surges  coming  in  over  the  reefs  raised  such 
a  clamor  now  that  Tobias  knew  his  fears  for  a  high 
sea  would  be  realized.  He  touched  off  the  lamp, 
early  as  was  the  hour,  waited  only  to  see  that  the 
wick  burned  evenly,  and  then  started  below  again. 


High  Tide  289 

As  he  went  downstairs  where  the  wind  sounded 
less  boisterously,  the  rush  of  the  boiling  surf  up  the 
strand  and  the  sound  of  its  retreat  grew  louder.  He 
got  into  his  slicker,  buckled  the  throat-latch  of  his 
tarpaulin  hat,  and  ventured  out  of  doors  once  more. 
But  he  went  no  farther  than  the  broad  stone  that 
lay  before  the  door. 

Up  past  the  lighthouse  raced  a  waist-high  roller, 
to  lap  over  the  road  and  drain  away  into  the  cat 
tail  swamp  on  the  other  side.  Its  retreat  tore  away 
a  full  line  of  Miss  Heppy's  cockleshells  that  bor 
dered  the  yard.  Again  the  sea  rolled  in,  and  like  a 
ravenous  beast  it  tore  and  bit  at  the  road's  edge, 
guttering  and  washing  away  the  sand  and  hard- 
packed  shell  in  great  mouth fuls. 

"Dad  fetch  it!"  ejaculated  the  worried  light- 
keeper.  "I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  we're  going 
to  be  purt'  nigh  surrounded  by  water  afore  this  is 
over." 

The  waves  were  rolling  in  across  the  sands  be 
tween  the  Light  and  the  Clay  Head.  The  road  to 
Clinkerport  would  soon  be  shut  off  completely. 

Tobias  was  aware  that  the  door  had  been  opened 
behind  him. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Bassett!  That  wave!  Look  at  it! 
Why — why,  I  can't  get  home!" 

"Cal'late  you'll  have  to  stay  and  throw  in  your 
lot  with  me  and  Heppy,"  he  cheerfully  rejoined. 
"But,  sugar,  Lorny !  I  guess  the  Twin  Rocks  Light 


290  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

will  stand  for  a  spell  yet.    We  don't  need  to  worry." 

As  he  turned,  smiling  broadly,  he  saw  that  her 
face  was  haggard.  Her  eyelids  were  inflamed,  and 
there  were  dark  wales  beneath  the  eyes.  She  looked 
at  him  pitifully. 

"No,  no,  Lorny,"  he  repeated,  "we  don't  need  to 
worry." 

She  gestured  seaward.  Her  voice  shook  with 
emotion. 

"But  how  about  those  out  there,  Tobias?"  she 
whispered.  "The  schooner!  What  about  her?" 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

WHAT  THE  NIGHT  BROUGHT 

HOUR  after  hour  the  billows  rolled  in  over  the  bar 
rier  of  the  Twin  Rocks  reefs  and  guttered  the  sands 
and  the  highway  beyond  until  the  sea  finally 
breached  through  the  shell  road  and  spread,  waist 
high,  upon  the  lowlands.  No  such  unseasonable 
tide  had  ever  before  been  marked  by  the  natives  of 
the  Cape.  Even  the  "great  tide  of  ninety-eight"  had 
not  reached  this  high  mark. 

Tobias  remained  with  Lorna  in  the  kitchen.  It 
was  useless  for  her  to  attempt  to  go  home,  even 
when  the  water  receded.  Tobias  could  not  leave 
the  light  to  attend  her,  and  there  was  nobody  else 
to  accompany  her  to  Clay  Head. 

So  she  set  about  getting  their  supper.  They 
spoke  of  the  tide  and  the  wonder  of  it.  It  was  now 
too  dark  to  see  anything  at  all  in  the  direction  of 
the  sea,  save  where  that  ray  of  light  streamed  forth 
from  the  top  of  the  tower.  It  was  quite  impossible 
even  to  observe  the  water  boiling  over  the  reefs. 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,"  said  Tobias,  "that  them 
that's  got  small  craft  in  the  Cove  yonder  will  find 

291 


292  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

'em  either  smashed  along  the  inner  side  of  the  rocks 
or  sunk.  I  know  my  dory's  sunk  long  ago." 

"Oh,  not  your  Marybird  or  Ralph's  Fenique,  I 
hope !"  cried  Lorna. 

"I  put  a  spring  on  the  motor  boat's  hawser,"  re 
joined  the  lightkeeper.  "And  the  Marybird  is 
hauled  up  on  the  sand  with  a  kedge  out,  bow  and 
stern.  I  don't  reckon  she'll  drag  'em,  no  matter  how 
high  the  tide  is.  I  would  not  want  anything  to  hap 
pen  to  Ralph's  craft — nossir !" 

But  their  minds — neither  Tobias's  nor  the  girl's 
— were  not  fixed  upon  these  things.  Secretly  both 
were  concerned  with  the  distressed  fishing  schooner, 
the  Nelly  G.  What  would  this  night  that  had  now 
shut  down  bring  to  that  imperiled  craft? 

Immediately  after  supper  Tobias  went  up  to  the 
lamp  again.  But  he  came  down  quickly.  He  feared 
that  Lorna  might  follow  him. 

When  she  asked  him  if  he  had  seen  the  schooner's 
topmasts  again,  he  shook  his  head.  It  was  true.  As 
far  as  he  knew  she  might  have  gone  down  already. 
Yet  he  hoped.  If  she  was  beached,  or  being  driven 
inshore,  surely  the  crew  of  the  Nelly  G.  would  burn 
Coston  lights  or  send  up  signal  rockets. 

Tobias,  of  course,  could  not  think  of  bed  on  such 
a  night  as  this.  And  Lorna  was  far  too  seriously 
wrought  upon  to  join  Miss  Heppy  upstairs.  The 
lightkeeper  suggested  it,  but  she  shook  her  head  in 
positive  refusal.  She  would  keep  watch  with  him. 


What  the  Night  Brought  293 

Every  hour  the  old  man  climbed  the  stairs  and 
searched  the  turbulent  sea  as  well  as  he  could  by  the 
light  of  the  steady  ray  of  the  lamp.  He  owned  no 
night  glasses,  and  unless  the  endangered  schooner 
came  within  range  of  the  light's  beam  there  would 
be  small  chance  of  spying  her. 

He  saw  no  signal  rockets.  He  could  report 
nothing  at  all  when  he  returned  to  the  kitchen  where 
Lorna  continued  to  sit.  If  there  was  any  hope  at 
all,  it  lay  in  that  fact.  The  Nelly  G.  must  still  be 
under  control.  She  might,  even,  have  wore  off  and 
made  a  greater  offing.  Yet  he  scarcely  believed  that 
possible  with  wind  and  tide  as  they  were. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  when  the  first  startling  incident 
of  this  never-to-be-forgotten  night  occurred.  Full 
sea  was  long  since  past  and  the  tide  had  run  out 
again  over  the  sands.  But  the  road  was  impassable 
for  any  vehicle.  Tobias,  lighting  his  pipe  at  the 
stove,  suddenly  desisted  to  cock  his  ear. 

There  was  a  sound  outside  other  than  that  made 
by  the  gale  and  sea.  Lorna  heard'  it,  too.  She 
sprang  up,  but  Tobias  was  first  at  the  door.  He 
opened  it  with  care,  for  fear  the  wind  would  suck  in 
and  put  out  the  lamp. 

"Ahoy!"  bawled  a  voice  from  the  road. 

"There's  somebody  in  trouble  out  there,  sure's 
you're  a  foot  high,  Lorny,"  the  lightkeeper  observed. 
"Fetch  me  my  slicker.  Got  to  see  what  they  want." 

He  was  out  in  half  a  minute,  answering  the  hail 


294  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

in  stentorian  tones.  The  girl  held  the  door  open  a 
crack  to  peer  forth.  She  made  out  the  bulk  of  some 
object  in  the  roadway  before  the  lighthouse  door; 
but  the  wind  whipped  the  flying  sand  into  her  face 
and  she  was  forced  to  withdraw. 

By  and  by  there  was  a  fumbling  at  the  door.  It 
was  flung  open  and  there  appeared  the  wind-blown 
figure  of  the  detective,  his  long  rain-coat  flapping 
about  his  legs.  From  outside  Tobias  bawled : 

"You'll  have  to  back  around  and  run  down  to 
Ez  Condon's,  Rafe.  His  shed's  the  only  shelter,  I 
cal'late,  that  there  is  for  a  car.  That's  where  Zeke 
keeps  his  when  he's  up  here  to  the  light." 

Tobias  clumped  into  the  house.  His  face  was 
quite  as  grim  as  that  of  the  visitor. 

"You've  heard  of  the  bad  penny,  Lorna,"  the 
lightkeeper  said  with  sarcasm.  "Here  it  is.  Road's 
all  torn  up  and  they  can't  get  that  car  of  Arad's 
through  to  Clinkerport  to-night." 

"I  am  sorry  to  have  to  take  advantage  of  your 
hospitality,  Mr.  Bassett,"  sneered  the  visitor. 

"I  cal'late  you  be,"  returned  Tobias  dryly.  "But 
that's  your  own  fault.  You've  made  yourself  sort 
o'  disliked  around  here,  and  I'm  frank  to  tell  you 
so.  But  I  wouldn't  leave  a  dog  stay  out  such 
weather  as  this.  And  Rafe 

"Why,  do  you  know,  Lorna,"  he  added,  turning 
to  the  girl.  "Rafe  Silver's  got  his  hand  in  a  sling. 
Broke  his  wrist,  or  something,  trying  to  crank  that 


What  the  Night  Brought  295 

big  car  down  there  to  the' station.  The  self-starter 
wouldn't  work.  Lucky  old  Cap  Edgar  is  no  slouch 
of  a  bone-setter." 

"Oh,  I'm  sorry !"  cried  the  girl.  "But  what  about 
the  Nelly  G.f"  she  added,  her  hands  clasped,  and 
looking  pleadingly  from  the  lightkeeper  to  the  de 
tective. 

The  latter  appreciated  her  emotion  now.  He  an 
swered  in  a  much  more  sympathetic  tone  than  he 
had  used  when  he  was  previously  at  the  lighthouse. 

"She  is  still  out  there,  and  is  not,  they  tell  me,  in 
immediate  danger.  If  the  gale  drops  she  will  be  all 
right." 

"But  what's  happened  to  her?"  demanded  Tobias. 
"Don't  they  know  at  the  life-saving  station?" 

"They  made  out  her  signals  during  the  day.  She 
lost  her  rudder,  and  they  can't  ship  another  in  these 
seas." 

"Oh,  sugar!  I  should  say  they  couldn't,"  agreed 
Tobias. 

"She  may  pull  through  all  right.  They  think  her 
skipper  is  hoping  to  get  into  Clinkerport." 

"I  cal'late,"  observed  Tobias  nodding.  "Well, 
Lorny,  I  reckon  we  can  take  hope  of  grace.  If 
Bob  Pritchett  can  beat  off  these  sands  till  he  claws 
around  the  p'int  of  the  Twin  Rocks,  he'll  make 
Clinkerport  Bay,  of  course." 

The  door  was  flung  open  again.  The  little  ma 
hogany-faced  Portuguese  staggered  in.  It  was 


296  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

plain  to  be  seen  that  something  fresh  had  happened. 

"What  is  it?"  cried  Lorna,  rising. 

Even  the  detective  turned  from  the  stove  to  look 
at  Rafe  Silver.  The  latter  spat  out  a  word  in  his 
own  tongue.  Tobias  laid  a  quick  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"Hey!  What's  happened  to  you  now?"  he  de 
manded.  "That  wrist  of  yours ?" 

But  Silver  writhed  away,  holding  his  injured 
hand  well  out  of  contact  with  Tobias.  "Not  me! 
Not  me!"  he  shrilled.  "Out  tnere!" 

He  pointed  seaward.  The  girl  whipped  about 
and  reached  the  seaward  window  before  any  of 
them,  jerking  up  the  shade. 

At  the  instant  a  red  streak  curved  upward  from 
the  surface  of  the  sea,  far  out  from  the  shore. 
Another  followed. 

"Signal  rockets!"  murmured  the  lightkeeper. 

"Oh,  Tobias!"  cried  Lorna.  "From  the 
schooner?" 

"That's  what  it  is,"  muttered  the  detective. 

Rafe  was  chattering  to  the  lightkeeper  in  broken 
English.  The  old  man  seemed  to  understand  him 
fully.  He  turned  swiftly  toward  the  stairs. 

"It's  the  Nelly  G.,  all  right,"  he  flung  back  over 
his  shoulder.  "She's  likely  lost  the  sea-anchor  they 
put  out,  and  there  ain't  nothing  to  keep  her  from 
going  on  these  rocks  at  last." 

"Oh,  Tobias!"  gasped  the  girl. 


What  the  Night  Brought  297 

"We've  got  to  face  it.  No  use  trying  to  dodge 
the  worst  when  it  does  come.  If  Ralph  is  aboard 
the  schooner " 

"Oh,  Endicott  is  aboard  of  her,  all  right,"  grum 
bled  the  detective.  "I  wish  I  was  as  sure  of  those 
yeggs  that  helped  him  rob  the  bank." 

He  sat  down  by  the  stove  and  continued  to  warm 
his  hands.  Rafe  Silver  followed  the  lightkeeper  to 
the  stairs  and,  in  a  moment,  with  a  glance  of  disdain 
at  the  detective,  Lorna  followed  the  Portuguese. 

At  the  door  of  Miss  Heppy's  room  she  halted  and 
listened.  Nasal  announcement  of  the  old  woman's 
sleep  could  be  heard,  despite  the  gale  without. 
Lorna  went  on  to  the  lamp  room. 

Standing  at  the  edge  of  the  broad  window  Tobias 
held  the  telescope  to  his  eye.  Although  it  was  no 
night  glass,  the  broad  ray  of  lamplight  aided  the  eye 
to  descry  objects  out  there  on  the  tumbling  sea. 

Silver  uttered  a  shout  of  amazement  and  pointed 
with  his  uninjured  hand  before  the  lightkeeper  could 
get  the  telescope  focused. 

"Oh,  sugar!"  exclaimed  Tobias.  "You  seen  her 
first,  did  ye?" 

Lorna  ran  into  the  room  and  joined  the  two  men. 
Her  sharp  eyes,  like  those  of  Silver's,  descried  the 
tossing  masts  of  the  laboring  schooner.  She  was 
heaving  up  and  down  upon  the  waves  directly  in  the 
path  of  the  lamp's  beam. 

"Is  it  the  Nelly  G.f"  she  cried.    "Really?" 


298  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Before  either  of  the  men  could  reply  another  scar 
let  streamer  shot  up  from  the  surface  of  the  sea, 
describing  a  long  curve  and  winking  out  at  last,  far 
tip  toward  the  hovering  gray  clouds. 

"A  rocket,  by  kinky !"  gasped  the  lightkeeper. 

"Ah !  What  I  tell  you,  my  friend?"  croaked  Rafe 
Silver. 

The  girl  seized  Tobias's  arm.  She  shook  him  a 
little,  sturdy  as  the  old  man  was  and  firm  upon  his 
feet. 

"We  must  do  something!"  she  cried.  "Tobias! 
We  must!" 

"Oh,  sugar!  What  can  we  do,"  muttered  the 
lightkeeper,  "if  them  life-savers  can't  get  out  to  the 
schooner? — and  of  course,  they  can't.  What  did 
Cap  Edgar  say,  Rafe?" 

The  Portuguese  shook  his  head  till  the  rings  in 
his  ears  twinkled  in  the  lamplight,  and  raised  his 
shoulders  in  a  truly  Latin  shrug. 

"What  can  heem  do?"  Silver  sighed.  "He  has 
only  oT  boat  down  theer.  The  men,  heem  weeling. 
But  no  can  row  against  thees  wind." 

"That's  just  it,"  groaned  Tobias. 

"Then  why  don't  they  get  the  gear  out  and  shoot 
a  line  to  the  schooner?"  demanded  Lorna.  "Can't 
they  use  the  breeches-buoy?" 

"Why,  my  dear,"  said  the  lightkeeper  gravely,  "if 
you  just  stop  and  think  you'll  see  that  if  the  wind 
is  too  strong  for  the  boat,  it's  too  strong  to  shoot  a 


'We  must  do  something-!"  she  cried.  "Tobias!  We  mustf  ' 

(See  Page  29S) 


What  the  Night  Brought  299 

line.  Couldn't  noways  reach  out  there,  with  even 
a  double  charge  of  powder  in  the  gun — nossir!" 

The  girl  clapped  her  hands  together  in  despair. 
"There  must  be  something  that  can  be  done,"  she 
said.  "Are  we  all  helpless?" 

"Wai— I  dunno " 

"Think,  Tobias!  There  must  be  some  way  to 
reach  them.  Think  of  Ralph  out  there." 

"Oh,  sugar,  gal !  don't  you  s'pose  I  be  thinking  of 
him  ?  I  ain't  doin'  much  of  anything  else." 

"If  they  only  have  motor  lifeboat  down  theer  to 
Lower  Trillion,"  said  Rafe  Silver,  "they  go  out  for 
heem." 

"Tobias,  they've  got  one  at  Upper  Trillion!"  the 
girl  exclaimed  suddenly. 

"Oh,  sugar!  So  they  have,"  the  lightkeeper 
agreed. 

Silver  shrugged  his  shoulders  again.  "They  no 
see  her  out  theer  from  Upper  Trillion  station. 
Amposseeble !" 

"But  haven't  the  Lower  Trillion  crew  sent  word, 
do  you  suppose,  to  the  Upper  Trillion  station?"  de 
manded  Lorna. 

The  lightkeeper  shook  his  head.  "You  forget  the 
wires  air  down,  Lorny.  That  is  why  this  here  de 
tective  and  Rafe  went  over  to  Lower  Trillion  in  the 
car.  And  now  they  can't  get  back  to  Clinkerport, 
even  if  the  telephone  is  working  from  there  to  Upper 
Trillion." 


300  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Oh,  Tobias!  are  you  sure  they  will  not  see  those 
rockets?  Ah!  There  goes  another." 

"They  ain't  likely  to.  The  headland's  between. 
My  soul  and  body!  this  is  sartain  sure  an  awful 
thing." 

The  three  were  silent  for  a  time.  Their  vision 
was  fastened  upon  the  plunging  fishing  craft.  Her 
fore-topmast  had  been  torn  away.  There  was  still 
some  of  her  lower  canvas  set.  Doubtless  Captain 
Bob  Pritchett  and  his  crew  were  doing  all  they 
could  to  keep  the  Nelly  G.  from  broaching  to. 

But  to  make  a  better  offing  was  impossible  unless 
the  wind  changed.  A  sea-anchor  would  help  keep 
her  head  to  the  wind,  but  continually  the  gale  was 
forcing  the  schooner  broadside  on  the  coast. 

"Mebbe  they'd  better  have  beached  her  down 
there  by  Lower  Trillion,"  Tobias  finally  said,  but 
shaking  his  head  doubtfully.  "Anyway,  that  chance 
is  past  and  gone.  And  ye  can't  really  blame  a  skip 
per  for  trying  to  save  his  ship — nossir! 

"She's  off  the  rocks  now.  No  two  ways  about 
it.  What  do  you  say,  Rafe?" 

"Santa  Maria!"  exploded  the  mahogany-faced 
man  with  a  final  shrug.  "She  is  loss!  No  help — 
no!" 

Tobias  looked  quickly  at  Lorna.  The  girl  could 
have  become  no  whiter  in  any  case.  But  her  eyes 
flamed.  The  lightkeeper  was  not  astonished  to  hear 
her  say  with  conviction : 


What  the  Night  Brought  301 

"I  do  not  believe  it!  There  must  be  something 
we  can  do  to  aid  them.  Think,  Tobias  Bassett! 
Think!" 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,  Lorna,"  he  drawled, 
"that  this  here  so-called  absent  treatment  ain't  going 
to  do  that  schooner  or  them  that's  aboard  of  her 
much  good.  We've  got  to  do  something  more'n 
thinking." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

DESPERATION 

THE  trio  went  down  from  the  lamp  room  again 
and  joined  the  detective  in  the  kitchen.  That  indi 
vidual  evidently  thought  much  more  about  his  own 
comfort  than  he  did  of  the  peril  of  the  storm- 
racked  schooner  and  her  crew. 

Lorna  wept  no  more ;  but  the  inaction  rasped  her 
nerves.  Tobias's  deep  reflection  made  him  look 
preternaturally  solemn — an  owl-like  gravity  that  at 
another  time  would  have  amused  her. 

Rafe  Silver  muttered  in  his  own  tongue  and 
nursed  his  injured  hand.  His  bead-black  eyes  con 
tinually  shifted  from  one  to  another  of  the  group. 

Tobias  filled  his  pipe  from  the  pouch  on  the 
mantel  and  then  passed  the  tobacco  to  Silver.  The 
latter  produced  a  brown  paper  and  dexterously  rolled 
himself  a  cigarette  with  his  uninjured  hand.  The 
other  man  brought  out  a  cigar,  and  all  three  pro 
ceeded  to  smoke.  Tobacco  is  said  to  soothe  the 
nerves.  It  did  not  soothe  Lorna's. 

Finally  the  lightkeeper  spoke: 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  there  ain't  nothing 
we  can  do  just  now.  There!"  he  added,  leaning 

302 


Desperation  303 

forward  to  gaze  through  the  single  window  that 
gave  a  view  of  the  sea.  "There  goes  another  rocket. 
The  Nelly  G.  is  gettin'  closer.  If  Bob  Pritchett  can 
claw  her  around  the  end  of  the  Twin  Rocks,  he'll 
mebbe  make  safe  harbor  in  the  bay.  But  if  she 
goes  slam  on  the  reefs 

"Wai,  no  use  meeting  trouble  more  than  half  way. 
If  she  does  hit,  she  does,  and  that's  all  there  is  to 
it.  And  if  she  does,  the  only  way  to  reach  and 
help  'em  is  with  the  power  lifeboat  from  Upper 
Trillion." 

"The  breeches-buoy,  Tobias?"  cried  Lorna. 

"No,  no,  I  tell  ye,  Lorna.  Not  a  chance.  Unless 
the  Nelly  G.  comes  inshore  on  the  next  full  sea. 
And  she  ain't  going  to  last  that  long.  Either  she'll 
be  on  the  rocks  or  safe  in  the  harbor  long  before 
another  tide.  At  full  sea  she  might  be  carried  over 
the  outer  reefs  and  lay  so  that  a  line  could  be  shot 
over  her.  Otherwise  the  power  boat  is  the  only 
hope.  That  is  sure." 

"Oh,  Tobias,  they  must  see  those  rockets  at  Upper 
Trillion!" 

"Lorna,  it's  impossible.  Not  from  the  station. 
And  none  o'  the  crew  is  patrolling  the  beaches. 
Cap'n  Edgar's  men  air  watching  this  schooner. 
Shouldn't  be  noways  surprised  if  they  was  out  there 
right  now.  But  none  of  the  Upper  Trillion  crew 
are  coming  down  yonder  to  the  other  side  of  the 
bay  mouth  to  the  key-box  like  they  do  when  they 


304  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

are  on  patrol.  Dickson  P'int  being  so  high,  shut's 
off  all  view  of  this  here  stretch  of  coast  from 
Upper  Trillion.  And  the  telephone  ain't  working." 

"Oh,  Tobias!" 

"I  know,  Lorny;  I  know,"  he  said.  "But  what 
can  I  do?  The  light  can't  be  left  untended — 'spe 
cially  a  night  like  this.  If  somebody  could  get  across 
the  bay  and  run  to  the  Upper  Trillion  station " 

"We  can,  Tobias!     There  is  Ralph's  Fenique/' 

"Yes,  I  cal'late  she's  there  in  the  cove  all  right," 
he  muttered.  "But  who's  going  to  manage  her  ?  If 
I  could  go,  I  am  free  to  confess  I  don't  know  much 
about  handling  that  motor-boat.  If  Zeke  was  only 
here " 

He  suddenly  turned  his  gaze  on  Rafe  Silver. 
But  the  momentary  flash  of  confidence  in  his  face 
faded  almost  instantly. 

"Oh,  sugar !"  muttered  Tobias.  "Rafe  can't  run 
a  motor-boat  with  a  broken  wrist." 

"Tobias  Bassett!"  exclaimed  the  girl,  getting  to 
her  feet  with  decision.  "I  can  manage  Ralph's 
boat.  I  can  run  the  Fenique  just  as  well  as  Ralph 
can  himself.  Ralph  said  so." 

"Oh,  sugar,  girl!  you  couldn't  get  across  the 
bay  to-night  in  it.  Alone  ?  Why,  I  wouldn't  hear 
to  it.  No,  indeed !" 

"Somebody  must  go,  Tobias.  Can't — can't  this 
man  go  with  me?"  and  Lorna  pointed  to  the  detec 
tive,  who  listened  open-mouthed. 


Desperation  305 

"What?  Me?"  he  gasped,  quite  horrified.  "I 
could  not  think  of  such  a  thing." 

"I  bet  you  couldn't,"  observed  the  lightkeeper, 
with  disgust.  "I  cal'late  you  air  too  precious  to 
have  your  hide  risked  where  it  might  get  scraped 
a  bit.  Humph !  Tell  ye  what,  Lorny :  You  and  me 
will  have  to  go." 

At  this  decision  she  displayed  instant  satisfaction. 
She  seized  her  jacket  and  veil.  But  Tobias  was 
looking  at  Rafe  Silver. 

"Rafe,"  he  said,  "I've  got  to  depend  on  you  if  I 
go  with  Lorny.  Somebody's  got  to  watch  the 
light.  You  savvy?" 

"Si.  si!  Captain  Bassett  can  depen'  on  heem," 
and  he  struck  his  chest  with  his  uninjured  hand. 

"If  you  need  a  man's  two  hands  for  anything, 
ring  that  fellow  in,"  and  Tobias  nodded  scornfully 
at  the  detective.  "If  anything  goes  wrong  here 
and  me  gone,  remember  it  means  I'll  lose  my  job. 
And  the  good  Lord  knows,"  he  murmured,  "me 
and  Heppy's  lost  enough,  seems  to  me — money  and 
all." 

The  girl  was  already  at  the  door;  but  Tobias 
took  his  time.  He  refilled  and  lit  a  lantern.  He 
searched  out  a  can  of  gasoline  from  the  storeroom. 
He  burdened  Lorna  with  a  stout  ash  oar.  And  last 
of  all  he  coiled  a  length  of  strong  line  over  his  arm. 
He  insisted  that  the  girl  be  buckled  into  a  lifebelt 
and  he  put  on  its  mate  himself. 


306  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"We  don't  know  what  we're  going  to  run  up 
against,  Lorny.  This  ain't  no  picnic  we're  setting 
out  on.  But  I  know  you  air  full  aware  of  that. 
We  may  get  through  as  slick  as  a  whistle.  Then 
again " 

"I  am  not  afraid,  Tobias,"  she  said  firmly. 

"I  cal'late  you  ain't,"  he  said,  looking  at  her  with 
pride.  "But  I'm  kind  o'  glad  Heppy  ain't  down 
here  to  see  us  start.  She  sartain  would  have  a  con 
niption  !" 

The  detective  did  not  offer  to  go  out  with  them. 
Rafe  Silver,  however,  insisted  on  accompanying  the 
lightkeeper  and  Lorna  down  upon  the  sands.  The 
radiance  of  the  hand  lantern  revealed  the  water- 
swept  shore.  Toward  the  cove  the  damage  by  the 
high  sea  had  not  been  so  great.  But,  as  Tobias 
had  prophesied,  there  were  few  boats  left  afloat  in 
the  cove. 

Here  and  there  was  a  craft  overturned  high  on 
the  strand — sometimes  in  a  wrecked  condition.  To 
bias  held  the  lantern  above  his  head.  Its  light  re 
vealed  something  of  what  lay  upon  the  heaving 
surface  of  the  sheltered  basin. 

"I  see  the  motor-boat!"  Lorna  cried,  knowing 
exactly  where  to  look  for  the  Fenique's  mooring 
buoy.  "It  is  afloat." 

"I  should  hope  so,"  rejoined  Tobias.  "There 
wouldn't  be  much  use  in  trying  to  get  across  the 
bay  without  she  was  afloat.  Hey,  Rafe!  do  you 


Desperation  307 

s'pose  that  skiff  yonder  will  hold  together  long 
enough  to  take  us  out  there  to  that  boat  of  Mr. 
Endicott's?" 

The  skiff  in  question  had  been  tossed  upon  the 
shore,  bottom  uppermost. 

"Heem  no  broken,  I  t'ink,"  said  the  Portuguese. 

"I  cal'late  you  are  right,"  said  the  lightkeeper. 
He  handed  Lorna  the  lantern  and  put  down  his 
other  burdens.  "Come  on  now,  Rafe.  Give  us  the 
help  of  your  hand  that  ain't  busted.  Heave  ho!" 

Lorna  flooded  the  skiff  with  lantern-light  when 
the  men  turned  it  over.  It  was  sound  enough  for 
their  purpose.  Tobias  put  his  sturdy  shoulder  to 
the  stern  and  ran  the  light  craft  down  to  the  water's 
edge. 

The  waves  surged  in,  almost  to  ordinary  full-sea 
mark.  The  surface  of  the  basin  was  not  very  rough. 
What  the  bay  was  like  beyond,  they  could  only 
guess. 

It  was  necessary  for  them  to  shout  to  each  other 
to  be  heard,  for  the  waves  broke  over  the  reefs 
noisily.  It  was  Tobias's  gesture  that  instructed 
Lorna  to  seat  herself  in  the  skiff,  forward.  He  ran 
the  boat  out,  wading  into  the  sea  half-leg  deep,  and 
then  scrambled  in. 

Seizing  the  oar  he  fixed  it  in  the  stern  and  began 
to  scull.  The  waves  were  choppy  and  the  skiff  was 
knocked  about  a  good  deal.  Tobias  was  a  sturdy 
old  man  and  Lorna  was  too  good  a  sailor  to  be 


308  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

fearful.  She  clung  to  the  gunwale  with  one  hand 
and  held  the  lantern  so  that  its  light  was  cast  over 
the  bow. 

In  half  a  minute  they  picked  out  the  bulk  of  the 
motor-boat.  It  heaved  up  and  down  on  the  turbu 
lent  water,  but  had  evidently  shipped  but  little  of 
that  element.  Ralph  had  put  on  the  canvas  cover 
and  battened  it  securely  before  leaving  home. 

"Stand  by  to  grab  that  line  that's  trailing  over 
board,  Lorny!"  bawled  Tobias  from  the  stern  of 
the  skiff.  "See  it?" 

She  nodded,  for  the  wind  was  blowing  so  strongly 
in  her  face  that  she  could  not  verbally  answer  him. 
The  skiff  swerved  in  toward  the  side  of  the  Fenique. 
The  girl  tossed  the  lantern  over  the  rail,  seized  the 
line,  and  scrambled  inboard.  Then  she  turned  and 
threw  the  slack  of  the  rope  to  Tobias. 

"Oh,  sugar,  Lorny!"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  came 
aboard.  "You  are  just  as  good  as  ary  boy.  I  al 
ways  said  so.  And  if  you  can  handle  this  mo 
tor " 

"I  can,  Tobias.    I  assure  you." 

"Wai,  like  the  feller  said,  I'm  willing  to  try  any 
thing  once.  We'll  make  some  sort  of  a  stab  at  get 
ting  under  way.  It  all  depends  on  you,  my  girl." 

Lorna  made  no  reply.  While  the  lightkeeper  tied 
the  painter  of  the  skiff  to  the  mooring  buoy,  she 
undertook  to  get  the  cover  off  the  machinery.  She 
was  shaking  with  nervousness,  but  she  would  not 


Desperation  309 

betray  this  fact  to  her  companion.  The  whipping 
of  the  wind  almost  tore  the  canvas  from  her  hands 
when  she  had  it  unlashed.  At  another  time  Lorna 
Nicholet  might  have  let  the  heavy,  wet  cloth  go 
overboard.  But  she  was  on  her  mettle  now. 

Her  experiences  afloat  heretofore  had  been  mostly 
in  sport.  On  a  few  occasions  (for  instance,  when 
she  and  Degger  had  come  near  to  death  in  Tobias's 
dory  and  Ralph  had  rescued  them)  the  girl  had  ex 
perienced  the  seamy  side  of  boat-sailing.  But  she 
quite  realized  that  nothing  she  had  previously  faced 
had  equaled  the  present  peril. 

"We've  got  to  fill  her  tank.  I  know  Ralph  didn't 
leave  much  gas  aboard  here,"  the  lightkeeper 
shouted.  "Now,  lemme  do  that  first.  Then  you 
can  show  me  how  to  spin  that  wheel.  Say,  Lorna, 
you  cast  off  the  canvas  of  the  steering  gear.  My 
soul  and  body!  but  you  be  a  handy  gal.  That's  it, 
now." 

The  boat  was  pitching  greatly ;  but  Tobias  seemed 
as  secure  of  his  footing  as  though  he  were  on  shore. 
Once  Lorna  was  flung  across  the  cockpit  and  col 
lided  painfully  with  the  bench;  but  she  made  no 
outcry. 

This  was  a  moment  of  desperation.  Tobias  faced 
the  coming  conflict  with  the  elements  as  though 
utterly  undisturbed  by  what  the  venture  might  bring 
forth.  Fear  of  events  seemed  not  to  enter  into  his 
thought.  But  Lorna  could  not  appear  so  calm.  Just 


310  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

ahead  of  them,  when  she  and  the  old  lightkeeper 
steered  out  into  the  open  bay,  death  rode  on  the 
gale. 

The  motor  hummed  rhythmically.  Tobias  stood 
at  the  steering  wheel  amidships,  holding  the  spokes 
with  iron  hand,  while  Lorna  crouched  almost  at 
his  feet.  They  had  not  attempted  to  light  any  run 
ning  lights.  Collision  with  any  other  craft  after 
they  got  out  of  the  cove  was  the  last  thing  to  be 
apprehended.  Tobias's  lantern  was  beside  the  girl 
in  the  cockpit.  The  old  man's  vision  seemed  to 
penetrate  the  darkness  and  driving  spindrift  as 
though  he  were  argus-eyed. 

In  Lorna' s  stooping  position  she  could  see  noth 
ing  ahead.  When  she  cast  her  gaze  astern  all  she 
beheld  was  the  foaming  wake  left  by  the  propeller. 
Such  an  angry  welter  of  sea  she  had  never  before 
been  out  in. 

Suddenly  the  motor-boat  yawed,  and  a  wave 
slapped  against  the  upheaving  hull,  bursting  over 
the  whole  length  of  the  craft.  The  cockpit  was  half 
full  in  a  moment;  but  fortunately  the  mechanism 
was  built  high  enough  to  save  it  from  being  flooded. 
Lorna  was  saturated  above  her  waist. 

Tobias  righted  the  Fenique  instantly.  He  grinned 
down  at  the  girl  after  a  moment. 

"That  was  some  sockdolager,  heh?"  he  bawled. 
"I  vow  to  man!  another  one  o'  them  and  she'll  be 
down  to  her  gunnels." 


Desperation  311 

But  this  misfortune  did  not  overtake  them.  Lorna 
knew  by  the  increased  height  of  the  waves  that  they 
were  now  opposite  the  unsheltered  entrance  to 
Clinkerport  Bay.  Here  the  waves  rolled  in  mas 
sively — great,  round-backed  combers  that  ran  far 
up  the  bay. 

Tobias  had  to  twist  the  bow  of  the  motor-boat  to 
meet  these  swells;  but  once  over  the  crest  of  one, 
he  ran  the  Fenique  slantingly  down  the  slope  and  in 
the  trough  between  the  two  great  waves,  like  a 
water-bug  scampering  along  the  crack  of  a  kitchen 
table. 

Between  every  wave  they  made  headway.  The 
tall  bluff  of  Dickson  Point  loomed  out  of  the  murk 
ahead.  Tobias  waved  his  hand  when  he  saw  Lorna 
rise  to  look. 

"There  she  be!"  he  bawled.  "Please  the  good 
Lord  we'll  make  it." 

But  he  read,  as  her  own  lips  moved,  the  anxious 
question : 

"I  wonder  what  has  happened  to  the  Nelly  G. 
by  this  time?" 

"Oh,  sugar!  Don't  you  worry  none  about  her 
now.  We'll  get  the  Trillion  crew  out  and  then  if 
the  worst  comes  to  worst  they'll  be  right  there  to 
pick  Ralph  and  them  other  fellers  off  the  schooner 
— yessir !" 

His  assurance  that  they  would  be  in  time  to  aid 
the  crew  of  the  threatened  fishing  schooner  buoyed 


312  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

up  Lorna's  heart.  She  began  to  feel  more  confi 
dence.  They  had  come  through  so  much  already, 
it  did  seem  as  though- their  venture  must  end  suc 
cessfully. 

She  knew  what  the  beach  was  below  Dickson 
Point,  on  the  bay  side.  Ralph  never  beached  the 
motor-boat  there,  for  it  was  stony.  But  they  could 
not  stop  for  thought  of  this.  If  the  Fenique  was 
to  be  smashed  upon  her  landing,  so  it  must  be ! 

Good  fortune  accompanied  them,  however.  A 
breaking  wave  drenched  Tobias  and  the  girl  as  the 
motor-boat  came  into  shallow  water.  In  the  back 
wash  of  the  wave  the  keel  grounded  slightly.  The 
following  billow  raised  the  boat  high  and  cast  it 
speedily  up  the  strand. 

"I  give.it  as  my  opinion,  Lorna,"  said  Tobias  in 
a  lull  of  the  wind,  "that  this  didn't  do  Ralph's  boat 
a  world  of  good.  Ne'r  mind.  Let's  get  ashore  and 
see  what  can  be  done." 

Near  the  beach  was  nothing  but  some  fish  houses, 
and  they  were  all  abandoned  during  this  hurricane. 
Back  toward  Clinkerport,  perhaps  a  couple  of  miles, 
was  a  house  in  which  was  a  telephone.  But,  as 
Tobias  pointed  out,  the  wires  might  be  down  over 
here  as  well  as  on  the  other  side  of  the  bay. 

"I  cal'late  we've  got  to  go  over  the  hill  to  the 
station.  Or  mebbe  you'd  better  stay  here  while  I  go. 
It'll  be  a  rough  passage,  Lorna." 

"I  can  go  quicker  than  you,  Tobias  Bassett,"  the 


Desperation  313 

girl  declared  through  chattering  teeth.  "And  I 
would  rather  keep  moving  than  stand  here  idle. 
There  is  no  shelter  here." 

"I'll  bust  in  the  door  of  Rube  Kellock's  •  fish 
house " 

"I  am  going  with  you,"  interrupted  the  girl  with 
determination.  "Where  is  the  path  up  the  bluff? 
Can  you  find  it  in  the  dark?" 

"I  cal'late,"  replied  the  lightkeeper.  "If  you  will 
go,  come  on." 

Their  eyes  were  now  accustomed  to  the  darkness. 
Besides,  even  on  the  gloomiest  night  there  is  always 
a  faint  glow  upon  the  water.  And  the  foaming  of 
the  wave-crests  cast  some  radiance  all  about.  When 
Tobias  once  found  the  path,  Lorna  mounted  to  the 
summit  of  the  bluff  much  more  quickly  than  he. 

"Oh,  sugar!"  the  lightkeeper  panted,  when  he 
finally  caught  up  with  her.  "You're  just  as  quick 

on  your  feet,  Lorny,  as  a  sheep.  I  never  see 

Dad  fetch  it!  what's  that?" 

As  had  the  girl,  he  had  first  turned  to  look  off 
across  the  sea  to  the  spot  where  they  had  last  seen 
the  laboring  fishing  schooner.  A  greenish-white 
light  began  to  glow  low  down  on  the  sea,  and  in 
shore. 

"It's  the  schooner,  Tobias!"  cried  Lorna.  "Oh! 
She  is  ashore!" 

"I  cal'late  you're  right,"  the  old  man  breathed. 
"Yep.  On  the  outer  reef.  There!" 


314  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

The  girl  shrieked,  crouching  at  his  feet  and  hid 
ing  her  eyes.  Tobias  stared.  The  growing  Coston 
light  picked  out  the  broken  spars  and  the  slanting 
deck  of  the  Nelly  G.  The  banker  had  gone  broad 
side  on  the  submerged  rocks  not  half  a  mile  south 
of  the  Twin  Rocks  Light. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

DAYBREAK 

THIRTY-SIX  hours  previous  Ralph  Endicott  had 
boarded  the  schooner  bound  for  the  fishing  banks 
and  had  been  obliged,  because  of  the  rising  sea,  to 
cast  Gyp  Pellet's  catboat  adrift.  The  Gull-wing  was 
scarcely  seaworthy,  anyway,  and  Ralph  had  already 
agreed  on  a  price  to  pay  the  Peehawket  boatman  if 
the  old  tub  were  lost. 

Captain  Bob  Pritchett  of  the  Nelly  G.  would  not 
have  had  his  craft  so  far  inshore  with  this  rising 
gale,  it  is  true,  had  he  not  received  Ralph's  telegram 
announcing  the  young  man's  delay,  and  that  Ralph 
would  be  somewhere  off  the  jaw  of  Cape  Fisher 
awaiting  the  schooner's  corning.  Nevertheless,  it 
was  not  Ralph's  fault  that  the  Nelly  G.  had  got  into 
serious  trouble.  He  was  not  counted  by  the  crew 
as  a  Jonah. 

It  was  one  of  those  happenings  that  even  the  best 
seamanship  could  not  have  avoided.  Not  long  after 
nightfall,  and  while  the  Nelly  G.  was  heading  almost 
into  the  wind  but  making  good  sea-room,  a  big, 
gray  wave  rose  up  out  of  the  unexpected  quarter  of 
due  east  and  smashed  down  upon  the  stern  of  the 

315 


316  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

schooner.  Her  waist  was  filled  and  everything  was 
washed  overboard  that  was  not  lashed  or  that  did 
not  cling  by  main  force. 

The  blow  carried  away  the  rudder.  And  though 
there  was  a  spare  one  in  the  Nelly  G.'s  hold,  it  could 
not  be  shipped  in  such  a  sea  as  this  that  held.  The 
schooner  was  at  once,  and  thereafter,  at  the  mercy 
of  the  gale. 

Captain  Pritchett  got  over  a  drag,  or  sea-anchor, 
that  kept  the  Nelly  G.'s  head  to  the  wind  for  that 
night  and  the  day  that  followed.  Had  the  schooner 
run  before  the  wind  she  would  surely  have  brought 
up  on  the  heel  of  Cape  Cod.  As  it  was,  tide  and 
gale  forced  her  steadily,  if  slowly,  inshore.  All  her 
company  could  hope  for  was  a  lull  in  the  wind  and 
for  clearing  weather. 

There  was  no  fruit  of  this  hope,  as  has  been  seen. 
Toward  evening  another  monster  wave  tore  the 
drag  free.  The  schooner's  fate  was  then  sure.  Cap 
tain  Pritchett  could  not  make  the  narrow  entrance 
to  Lower  Trillion  Inlet.  The  mouth  of  Clinkerport 
Bay  was  too  far  to  the  north.  The  schooner  could 
not  claw  around  the  Twin  Rocks  under  such  sail  as 
could  be  spread. 

The  expected  finally  happened.  It  was  not  now 
far  from  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  the 
Nelly  G.  struck  broadside  upon  the  reef  that  lay 
just  under  the  sea-level,  and  canted  over  to  port. 

The  imperiled  ship's  company  knew  well  enough 


Daybreak  317 

that  they  could  expect  no  help  from  the  Lower 
Trillion  life  saving  crew,  even  if  all  the  members 
were  on  duty  in  this  unseasonable  gale.  No  oared 
boat  could  be  pulled  up  the  coast  to  the  scene  of  the 
wreck.  Between  the  ill-fated  Nelly  G.  and  the  sands 
was  a  wide  stretch  of  rock-strewn  sea  in  which  the 
tide  boiled  like  water  in  a  cauldron.  This  space  was 
too  wide  for  a  line  to  be  shot  over  it  from  the  sands 
to  the  schooner. 

Not  all  of  the  fishing  craft's  nests  of  dories  had 
been  carried  away,  but  a  boat  could  not  live  in  that 
turmoil  of  the  sea.  The  crew  climbed  the  rigging 
and  lashed  each  other  to  the  stays,  waiting  for  day 
light  and  hoping  only  for  the  gale  to  cease. 

A  long-enduring  storm  such  as  this  in  winter 
would  have  spelled  death  for  many  of  the  company. 
But  if  the  schooner  did  not  break  up  at  once  they 
might  all  cling  until  the  sea  went  down  and  some 
means  then  be  found  to  rescue  them. 

The  next  full  sea  threatened  disaster.  Even  now 
the  surf  broke  against  the  hull  'of  the  wreck  with 
such  force  that  it  ground  upon  the  rocks  under  the 
strain  of  each  recurrent  blow.  At  any  moment  the 
framework  of  the  Nelly  G.  might  be  torn  asunder. 

On  shore  the  watchers  had  built  a  huge  fire  of 
drift  stuff.  The  wearied  fishing  crew  could  see  the 
men  and  women,  who  had  come  to  watch  if  they 
could  not  aid,  moving  about  in  the  radiance  of  the 
leaping  flames.  The  sight  of  fellow  beings  cheered 


318  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

the  wrecked  men  to  a  degree.  They  felt  that  they 
were  not  deserted.  If  no  succor  could  reach  them, 
human  sympathy  did. 

It  was  in  the  false  dawn — that  lighting  of  the  sky 
before  the  sun  really  illumines  the  horizon — that  a 
hail  reached  the  dulled  ears  of  the  watchers  lashed 
to  the  rigging  of  the  Nelly  G.  As  she  was  pitched 
so  far  to  port  that  their  bodies  overhung  the  leaping, 
foam-streaked  waves,  they  could  not  see  over  the 
starboard  rail  of  the  wreck.  And  to  their  amaze 
ment  the  hail  came  from  this  seaward  direction. 

Ralph  Endicott,  as  agile  as  any  of  the  crew  and 
much  quicker  than  the  skipper,  who  was  no  longer 
young,  slipped  out  of  his  lashings  and  worked  his 
way  swiftly  down  the  stays  to  the  rail.  Within  a 
biscuit-toss  of  the  wreck  lay  a  big  motor  lifeboat, 
her  belted  crew  with  their  faces  lifted  to  him. 

"Ahoy,  the  schooner!"  bawled  again  a  hoarse 
voice.  "Don't  you  fellers  want  to  be  taken  off,  or 
do  ye  cal'late  on  stayin'  till  she  breaks  up  into 
kindling  wood?" 

For  an  instant  Ralph  could  not  speak.  If  he  had 
not  been  panic-stricken,  he  certainly  was  anxious. 
And  here  was  unexpected  rescue  at  hand ! 

"Cap'n  Pritchett !  Come  down !  Here's  visitors !" 
he  finally  bawled. 

Another  of  the  party  had  swarmed  down  to  the 
rail.  He  raised  a  stentorian  bellow : 

"Hey !    Here's  the  Upper  Trillion  crew.    I  would 


Daybreak  319 

know  Cap'n  Boggs  in  a  Georges's  snow-squall. 
Come  on,  boys!  We'd  better  go  to  breakfast  with 
them,  hey?" 

There  was  sudden  and  great  hilarity.  These 
brave  fellows  were  used  to  facing  danger  in  many 
forms,  and  the  unexpected  chance  for  escape  from 
the  wreck  quickly  assuaged  their  gloom. 

The  debarkation  from  the  wreck  was  not  so  sim 
ple  a  matter.  Already  the  crew  of  the  schooner 
had  each  a  lifebelt  strapped  upon  his  body.  Now 
a  sling  was  arranged  with  a  whipline  attached 
thereto,  and  this  last  flung  to  willing  hands  in  the 
lifeboat. 

With  her  propeller  holding  her  steady  against  the 
force  of  the  inrolling  waves,  the  lifeboat  was  backed 
as  near  the  wreck  as  was  judged  safe.  One  after 
another  the  wrecked  crew  entered  the  sling  and  the 
life  savers  drew  them  over  to  the  motor  craft  while 
their  mates  aboard  the  wreck  payed  out  the  line. 

More  than  one  of  the  passengers  in  this  rude 
contrivance  was  submerged  in  the  leaping,  hungry 
waves;  but  there  were  no  serious  casualties  until 
the  end.  Ralph  Endicott  was  one  of  the  last  to  go, 
and  Captain  Pritchett  himself  aided  the  young  man. 
The  captain  insisted  upon  remaining  till  the  last. 
There  was  nobody  to  aid  him  in  leaving  the  wreck. 
With  a  line  about  his  waist  Captain  Pritchett  leaped 
into  a  receding  wave  and  was  hauled  into  the  life 
boat  unconscious  and  with  a  broken  arm. 


320  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

Fourteen  men,  including  the  skipper  and  the  cook, 

'  were  thus  rescued.    It  was  an  event  of  greater  peril 

than  can  easily  be  imagined.     Nor  was  all  danger 

over  when  the  full  tally  of  the  schooner's  company 

was  in  the  motor-boat. 

It  was  still  so  dark  that  the  crowd  ashore  could 
not  see  that  the  crew  of  the  wrecked  vessel  had 
taken  their  departure.  It  was  lighter  out  here  at 
sea  than  it  was  inshore.  The  lifeboat  was  speeded 
for  the  mouth  of  Clinkerport  Bay. 

Chilled  and  almost  water-logged,  Ralph  Endicott 
crouched  with  the  other  members  of  the  rescued 
fishing  boat's  crew  in  the  surf  boat.  The  dash 
through  the  breakers  at  the  entrance  to  the  bay  did 
not  excite  the  party,  for  they  were  merely  wretched 
and  exhausted.  It  was  one  of  the  crew  from  the 
life  saving  station  that  hailed  another  motor-boat 
sputtering  toward  the  cove  between  Clay  Head  and 
th'e  Twin  Rocks  Light. 

"Cap,  there's  that  plucky  girl  and  Tobe  Bassett, 
I  do  believe.  They  are  just  getting  back  from  across 
the  bay." 

"Who  is  she?"  asked  one  of  his  mates.  "One  of 
the  summer  visitors,  did  you  say?  Bassett  was 
plum'  winded,  and  she  ran  all  the  way  to  the  station 
and  told  us  that  the  schooner  was  on  the  rocks. 
Some  girl,  that!" 

"She's  Mr.  John  Nicholet's  daughter,"  shouted 


Daybreak  321 

the  captain  of  the  life  saving  station.  "Lives  in 
that  big  house  up  yonder  on  the  Clay  Head." 

On  hearing  this  Ralph  roused  himself.  These 
men  spoke  of  Lorna  Nicholet.  In  the  increasing 
dawn  he  saw  and  recognized  his  own  Fenique. 

The  lifeboat  swept  on  past  the  smaller  craft.  To 
bias,  at  the  helm  of  the  latter,  shouted  a  cheery 
word.  Both  boats  were  beached  about  the  same 
time  on  the  sands  below  the  light. 

Rafe  Silver  led  the  crowd  of  neighbors  and  mem 
bers  of  the  Lower  Trillion  crew  to  meet  the  dis 
embarking  fishing  schooner's  company.  The  mo 
ment  Ralph  got  out  of  the  lifeboat  he  hurried  to 
where  the  Fenique  had  bored  her  nose  into  the  sandy 
beach. 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,  Lorny,"  Tobias  Bassett 
was  saying  loudly  and  cheerfully,  "that  we  mebbe 
ain't  doing  Ralph's  boat  any  good,  beachin'  her  this 

way.  But  I  cal'late  'tis  more  important Hi! 

Gimme  your  hand,  gal.  D'ye  feel  all  in?  Sho!  I 
guess Why !  here's  Ralph  now." 

He  had  his  arm  about  the  swaying  figure  of  the 
young  woman.  Lorna  started  forward,  uttering  a 
little  cry : 

"Ralph!     Oh,  Ralph  Endicott!     Are  you  safe?" 

"Tobias  Bassett!"  ejaculated  the  young  man, 
angrily,  "do  you  mean  to  say  you  let  her  go  out 
with  you  in  such  a  sea  as  this  ?  Man,  you're  crazy !" 

"Now,  now,  Ralphie !  don't  let  go  all  holts.  There 


322  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

warn't  no  holding  of  her  back  when  she  knowed  you 
was  out  there  in  that  haddocker.  And  I  didn't  know 
how  to  run  this  dratted  engine." 

Lorna  had  shrunk  back  against  the  sturdy  figure 
of  the  lightkeeper.  She  suddenly  remembered  that 
Ralph  Endicott  had  played  no  lover's  part  toward 
her,  at  least  during  these  past  months. 

"You're — you're  all  right,  Lorna  ?"  he  asked  with 
hesitation. 

"Why,  yes,  Ralph.    Only  wet.    I " 

Her  speech  was  terminated  abruptly  by  the  ap 
pearance  of  the  detective.  He  put  a  tentative  hand 
on  Ralph's  shoulder. 

"So  this  is  the  chap  I'm  looking  for,  is  it?"  he 
said.  "Do- 1  understand  this  is  Ralph  Endicott?" 

"Oh,  sugar !"  muttered  Tobias,  with  disgust.  "I'd 
forgot  all  about  that  feller." 


CHAPTER  XXX 

A  SILVER-BANDED  PIPE 

INSTINCTIVELY  Ralph  Endicott  drew  away  from 
the  shabby  man,  but  stared  at  him  curiously. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said.  "If  you  wish  to 
speak  with  me,  come  up  to  the  house  later.  Any 
body  will  tell  you  where  I  live." 

"Say,  young  fellow,  don't  you  get  flossy  with  me," 
snarled  the  detective.  "I  been  waiting  for  you  some 
time.  We  want  to  know  what  you  know  about  that 
bank  burglary." 

"About  what  bank  burglary?"  repeated  the  young 
man,  and  his  surprise  was  so  genuine  that  Lorna 
sighed  her  audible  relief. 

"The  Clinkerport  Bank.  You  know  well  enough. 
Don't  make  it  worse  for  yourself  by  denying  knowl 
edge  of  it.  You've  got  to  go  to  town  with  me  and 
see  Mr.  Arad  Thompson." 

"Arad  Thompson?"  Ralph  repeated.  "At  the 
bank?  Why " 

The  detective  turned  to  shout  to  Rafe  Silver: 
"Hey,  you  Portuguese !  Get  that  car.  You  can  get 
her  around  the  hole  in  the  road  now.  Come  alive!" 

Ralph  stared  wonderingly  from  Tobias  to  Lorna, 
323 


324  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"What  does  the  fellow  mean?"  he  demanded,  as 
the  detective  moved  away  to  hasten  Silver's  move 
ments. 

"I  cal'late  you  ain't  heard  the  news,  then,"  said 
the  lightkeeper  slowly.  "The  bank's  been  robbed." 

"Well  ?    What  has  that  to  do  with  me  ?" 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion,  Ralph,  that  some  folks 
think  you  had  a  deal  to  do  with  it — yessir !" 

"Nonsense!" 

"Oh,  Ralph!  it  is  true.  That — that  man  is  a 
detective,"  gasped  Lorna. 

The  young  man  reddened  angrily.  He  demanded : 

"Why  do  they  pick  on  me?  Tell  me  about  it. 
Where  is  the  evidence?" 

A  good  deal  can  be  said  in  a  few  moments,  and 
Lorna  gave  the  particulars  of  the  discovery  of  the 
robbery  and  the  evidence  pointing  to  Ralph's  com 
plicity  in  it  briefly  and  succinctly. 

"Why,  I  haven't  seen  that  address  book  of  mine, 
nor  the  penknife,  for  a  week,"  finally  said  Ralph, 
shaking  his  head. 

"Where  did  you  have  'em  last,  for  sure?"  was 
Tobias's  shrewd  question. 

"I— I Well,  I  lost  them." 

"You  did,  heh?  Do  you  know  where  you  lost 
'em?" 

"Oh,  I  suppose  so,"  grumbled  the  young  man. 

"Oh,  sugar!"  ejaculated  the  lightkeeper.  "Out 
with  it!  This  here  has  gone  too  far  for  you  to 


A  Silver-Banded  Pipe  325 

dodge  any  questions,  boy.  I  tell  ye  folks  really 
think  you  know  more'n  you  ought  to  about  that 
burglary.  Every  little  thing  has  got  to  be  ex 
plained." 

Ralph  glanced  at  Lorna  sheepishly. 

"I  got  into  a  fist  fight  with  a  fellow  out  on  the 
road  to  Harbor  Bar  two  days  before  I  started  to 
join  the  crew  of  the  Nelly  G." 

"With  Conny  Degger !"  murmured  Lorna. 

"Yes,  it  was  with  him,"  admitted  Ralph.  "After 
I  got  home  I  saw  my  watch  chain  had  been  broken 
and  the  knife  was  gone.  The  address  book  had 
fallen  out  of  my  vest  pocket,  too.  When  I  went 
back  there  the  next  morning  I  could  find  neither,  of 
course.  Right  on  the  public  road,  you  see.  Any 
body  might  have  picked  them  up." 

"Oh,  sugar !"  rejoined  Tobias  before  Lorna  could 
speak.  "Anybody  wouldn't  have  left  the  knife  and 
the  book  right  where  they'd  p'int  suspicion  at  you  as 
robbing  the  bank.  But  somebody  would." 

"Oh,  Tobias !"  gasped  Lorna. 

"Yes,  I  been  having  my  suspicions  right  along," 
said  the  lightkeeper.  "Tell  us  something  more, 
Ralphie.  Why  did  you  start  for  New  Bedford,  and 
then  come  back  to  town  again?  All  these  things 
seem  to  p'int  to  trouble." 

The  young  man,  hesitating,  flashed  another  dep 
recatory  glance  at  Lorna.  He  cleared  his  throat. 

"Why,  you  see,  Tobias,  I  got  a  bunch  of  mail  at 


326  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

the  post-office  just  before  I  boarded  the  train. 

Among  the  letters  was  one  from  a — er Well, 

from  a  person  whom  I  knew  to  be  in  trouble.  Seri 
ous  trouble.  Er — the  person  needed  help  at  once — 
financial  help.  I  could  give  that  help  by  returning, 
drawing  some  money  I  had  in  the  Clinkerport  Bank, 
and  sending  it,  registered,  to  this  needy  person. 

"So,  you  see,"  Ralph  continued,  with  more  con 
fidence,  "I  did  that.  I  could  not  then  get  to  New 
Bedford  in  time  to  join  the  Nelly  G.  at  the  hour 
Cap'n  Pritchett  had  told  me  she  would  slip  her  cable. 
I  sent  him  a  telegram  explaining  that  I  would  try 
to  pick  the  Nelly  G.  up  off  the  coast  down  yonder. 
I  went  down  past  Peehawket  on  an  empty  freight 
train,  and  found  Gyp  Pellet  and  his  Gullwing." 

"We  know  all  about  that,  Ralphie,"  said  Tobias. 
"How  you  went  out  and  was  picked  up  by  Cap 
Pritchett.  .But  you  can  see  yourself  it  looked  sus 
picious — 'specially  to  the  gossips.  Ho — hum !  Wai, 
now,  lemme  tell  you,  I  had  my  own  suspicions — 
and  I  have  'em  yet." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  Ralph  asked,  still  scowling 
in  a  puzzled  way.  "I  don't  see  who  could  have  put 
that  book  and  that  penknife  there." 

"Wake  up!"  exclaimed  the  lightkeeper.  "Lemme 
tell  you.  I  heard  that  feller  talking  to  Lonzo  Burt- 
well  one  day.  Burtwell's  a  bad  egg  if  ever  I  see 
one.  And  that  other  feller  is  like  enough  under 
Burtwell's  thumb." 


A  Silver-Banded  Pipe  327 

"Conny  Degger !"  exclaimed  Ralph  suddenly. 

"Oh !  That  is  how  he  got  that  page  out  of  your 
address  book,"  murmured  Lorna.  But  neither  of 
the  men  heard  this  observation. 

Ralph's  face  expressed  anger  now,  but  no  uncer 
tainty.  He  looked  over  Tobias's  head  toward  the 
south.  The  detective  was  standing  by  the  road, 
looking  in  the  same  direction.  In  the  distance 
sounded  the  explosion  of  an  automobile  cut-off. 
Rafe  Silver  had  got  the  big  limousine  again  into 
action. 

"Where  is  he?"  asked  Ralph  with  sudden  de 
cision. 

"Where  is  who?"  drawled  the  lightkeeper. 

"Degger." 

"I  cal'late  he  and  Burtwell  air  still  at  the  Clinker- 
port  Inn.  They  was,  the  last  I  heard.  If  they  are 
at  the  bottom  of  this  business,  I  give  it  as  my 
opinion  that  they  are  hanging  around  to  throw  dust 
in  the  eyes  of  Arad  Thompson  and  this  here  detec 
tive." 

"What  is  the  matter  with  that  fellow?"  broke  in 
Ralph,  starting  for  the  roadside.  "He  can  get  that 
car  down  here  on  the  beach  if  he  tries." 

The  blue  car  had  stopped.  Rafe  Silver  got  out. 
Ralph  hurried  nearer  and  Tobias  followed  in  his 
wake. 

"I'll  drive  it  for  him,"  the  young  fellow  said  over 
his  shoulder  to  the  lightkeeper.  "I  see  his  arm's  in 


328  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

a  sling.  I  want  to  get  to  town  as  quick  as  I  can. 
If  Dagger  is  still  at  the  hotel " 

Tobias  trotted  to  keep  up  with  him.  "Dad  fetch 
it,  boy!"  he  gasped,  "I've  got  interest  in  this  busi 
ness,  too,  I  cal'late.  Hey,  Rafe!  Get  out'n  his 
way." 

The  Portuguese  stepped  aside.  Ralph  whirled 
the  crank,  and  as  the  spark  caught  he  leaped  in  be 
hind  the  steering  wheel. 

"Hey,  you!"  yelled  the  detective,  suddenly  wak 
ing  up.  "I  want  you !  Hey !  you're  under  arrest." 

But  the  only  person  near  enough  to  join  Ralph 
on  the  front  seat  of  the  car  was  Tobias  Bassett.  He 
plunged  in  just  as  Ralph  shot  the  limousine  over 
the  guttered  brink  of  the  road  and  down  upon  the 
sands. 

The  big  car  jounced  and  groaned,  but  its  engine 
did  not  balk.  The  detective  ran  after  it  for  a  few 
yards,  shouting  for  Ralph  to  stop.  But  when  the 
car  got  back  into  the  road  he  gave  it  up. 

Lorna  was  left  on  the  shore  in  a  fog  of  amaze 
ment.  It  was  several  minutes  before  she  thought  of 
Miss  Heppy.  Then  she  went  back  to  the  light 
house.  The  storm  had  been  abating  for  an  hour  or 
more. 

It  was  not  yet  half  past  five  when  the  big  auto 
mobile  swung  into  the  head  of  Main  Street.  The 
round,  red  face  of  the  sun  was  just  breaking  through 
the  drab  cloud  banks  overhanging  the  sea.  Its  first 


A  Silver-Banded  Pipe  329 

beams  washed  the  empty  village  in  a  rosy  glow. 
After  the  turmoil  of  the  night  the  townspeople  were 
late  in  rising. 

"What  do  you  caPlate  on  doing?"  demanded  To 
bias,  as  Ralph  halted  the  car  in  front  of  the  hotel. 

"See  if  those  fellows  are  here  yet.  If  they're 
not " 

"I'm  with  you !"  exclaimed  the  lightkeeper,  alight 
ing  with  alacrity.  "If  they  robbed  the  bank,  why, 
dad  fetch  it!  they  got  all  my  and  Heppy's  savings, 
too.  I  never  did  like  that  Degger." 

He  was  right  at  Ralph's  heels  when  the  latter 
strode  into  the  hotel  office.  A  yawning  clerk  stopped 
in  the  middle  of  a  mighty  stretch,  and,  with  mouth 
agape,  stared  at  the  visitors. 

"Are  Con  Degger  and  Burtwell  here  ?"  demanded 
Ralph. 

"Why— why " 

"Are  they?" 

"Yes.  I  just  got  'em  up.  The  cook's  getting 
them  some  breakfast,  for  they  are  going  out  on  the 
clam  train." 

"Where  are  their  rooms?" 

"Right  upstairs.  One  flight.  At  the  rear  of  the 
hall.  Number  eight." 

This  staccato  information  followed  Ralph  as  he 
started  up  the  stairs.  Tobias  lingered  long  enough 
to  say  to  the  clerk : 

"They  needn't  hold  the  clam  train  for  'em  this 


330  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

morning.  And  you  tell  the  cook  his  breakfast  won't 
likely  be  eat  by  them  two  scalawags  unless  he  serves 
it  to  'em  in  jail." 

Puffing  after  his  exertions,  Tobias  was  right  be 
hind  Ralph  when  the  young  man  reached  the  door 
of  number  eight.  Ralph  did  not  stop  to  knock,  but 
flung  the  door  open. 

Conny  Degger  and  his  friend  were  fully  dressed, 
even  to  their  coats  and  hats.  Two  strapped  valises 
stood  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  beds.  The  attitude 
of  the  men  showed  that  they  were  more  than  ordi 
narily  startled  by  the  entrance  of  the  visitors. 

"Look  out  for  that  Burtwell,  Tobias.  He  carries 
a  pistol,"  called  out  Ralph,  as  he  made  for  Degger. 

As  Ralph  slammed  Degger  against  the  wall,  Burt 
well  made  a  motion  toward  his  hip.  There  was  a 
heavy  water  pitcher  in  the  bowl  on  the  washstand. 
As  Tobias  came  through  the  doorway  he  saw  this 
and  grabbed  it. 

"Ye  would,  would  ye?"  he  shouted,  and,  catch 
ing  the  pitcher  up  and  at  full  arm's  length,  he  broke 
the  heavy  piece  of  crockery  over  Burtwell's  head. 

The  man  crashed  to  the  floor  amid  the  shower  of 
broken  crockery,  and  the  subsequent  proceedings — 
even  after  the  constable  came  to  take  both  Degger 
and  him  to  the  local  jail — interested  Alonzo  Burt 
well  not  at  all. 

Tobias  and  Ralph  Endicott  carried  the  two  bags 
over  to  the  bank,  to  which  Mr.  Arad  Thompson  had 


A  Silver-Banded  Pipe  .  331 

been  wheeled  in  his  chair  to  meet  them  at  this  early 
hour.  When  the  bags  were  opened  the  money  taken 
from  the  bank  vault  was  found  packed  underneath 
the  clothing  of  Degger.and  Burtwell. 

"That's  a  relief,  Tobias,"  the  bank  president  said. 
"I've  had  the  books  examined,  for  I  did  not  know 
but  one  of  the  employees  might  be  crooked,  too. 
This  clears  everything  up." 

It  was  plain  that  Burtwell  and  Conny  Degger  had 
committed  the  burglary  without  other  assistance. 
Later  the  Bankers'  Protective  Association  learned 
that  Burtwell  was  known  in  the  West  as  one  of  the 
most  skillful  bank  burglars  who  ever  "felt  out"  the 
combination  of  a  vault  doorlock.  The  writing  of 
that  combination  in  Ralph  Endicott's  address  book 
had  merely  been  an  attempt  made  by  Conny  Degger 
to  throw  suspicion  on  his  enemy. 

"And  o'  course,"  said  the  lightkeeper,  as  Ralph 
turned  the  prow  of  the  limousine  toward  the  Twin 
Rocks,  steering  carefully  through  the  crowd  of 
townsfolk  that  had  gathered  before  the  bank,  "the 
rascal  dropped  your  knife  there  where  I  found  it. 
I  cal'late  he  is  a  reg'lar  snake  in  the  grass,  that 
Degger.  And  to  think  of  his  trying  to  shine  up  to 
our  Lorny.  Oh,  sugar !" 

Ralph  flashed  the  old  man  a  sharp  glance. 

"What  do  you  think,  Tobias?  Do  you  suppose 
Lorna  really  cared  for  the  fellow  ?" 


332  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Humph!"  was  the  lightkeeper's  non-committal 
reply. 

"For  I  tell  you  what  it  is,"  the  young  man  went 
on  with  earnestness.  "I've,  been  thinking  a  good 
deal  about  it  lately " 

"Humph!"  said  Tobias  again.  "About  it,  or 
about  her?" 

"Why,  confound  you,  Tobias  Bassett,  of  course 
I  mean  I've  been  thinking  of  Lorna.  And  I  think  a 
whole  lot  of  her.  But  she  doesn't  care  enough 
about  me " 

"Oh,  sugar!"  drawled  Tobias.  "I  should  say  not. 
Risked  her  life  and  all.  Would  go  with  me  in  that 
motor-boat  to  get  them  life  savers.  Ran  all  the 
way  to  Upper  Trillion  when  my  old  pumps  plumb 
give  out.  No,  no!  Of  course  she  don't  think  noth 
ing  at  all  about  you,  Ralph." 

"Well " 

"And  when  she  knowed  for  sure  you  was  aboard 
that  haddocker  and  it  was  in  danger,  she  didn't  get 
down  on  her  knees  and  pray  for  you  by  name — oh, 
no!  I  cal'late  I  dreamed  that!" 

"Tobias!" 

"Oh,  sugar !"  observed  the  lightkeeper  with  scorn 
in  his  voice.  "I  cal'late  you  are  purt'  near  as  blind 
as  a  bat,  Ralph  Endicott.  Yessir!  That  gal  loves 
ye  so  hard  it  hurts — jest  like  I  said  she  would  under 
proper  encouragement." 


A  Silver-Banded  Pipe  333 

"Lorna?"  murmured  Ralph,  his  eyes  suddenly 
suffused. 

The  car  swerved  and  Tobias  grabbed  the  driver's 
arm. 

"Hey !  Do  ye  want  to  have  us  in  the  ditch  ?  She 
won't  like  ye  no  better  with  a  broken  neck.  And 
me — -I  cal'late  I  want  to  live  a  leetle  longer.  In 
spite  o'  Hephzibah  Bassett  I  mean  to  have  some 
good  out  o'  our  recovered  savings  before  I  die." 

"If  she  does  love  me,"  Ralph  went  on,  "we'll  get 
married  right  away  and  I  can  sav~  her  from  all  the 
privation  she  might  suffer  now  that  the  Nicholets 
have  lost  their  money." 

Tobias  .suddenly  groaned.  He  turned  in  the  seat 
to  face  his  companion. 

"I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  I'm  an  awful  sinner 
— the  good  Lord  forgive  me !  I  did  it  for  the  best. 
And  Lorna  never  would  have  found  out  she  loved 
you,  nor  you  that  you  loved  her,  if  ye  each  hadn't 
thought  t'other  was  in  trouble." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Ralph,  puzzled. 

For  a  second  time  the  old  lightkeeper  made  his 
confession.  Ralph  showed  at  first  nothing  but 
wonder. 

"And  she  isn't  poor  at  all?"  he  finally  asked. 

"Not  so  fur  as  I  know." 

Ralph  Endicott  suddenly  burst  into  laughter. 
"You  old  fox!"  he  shouted.  "I  believe  you  were 
right.  I  never  did  think  so  much  about  Lorna  till 


334  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

I  began  to  worry  over  her  losing  her  fortune.    You 
are  a  wonderful  psychologist,  Tobias  Bassett." 

"Huh!  Me?  There,  now,  Ralph,  you  needn't 
call  me  such  names,  even  if  I  did  tell  a  couple  of 
whoppers  to  you  and  Lorny  for  the  good  of  your 
souls.  You  ought  to  thank  me." 

Before  they  arrived  in  sight  of  the  light  another 
car  purred  up  behind  them.  The  chauffeur  of  this 
was  Jackson,  the  Nicholets'  man. 

"Cap'n  Bassett !"  he  shouted,  "is  Miss  Lorna  still 
over  at  the  light?" 

"I  cal'late,"  replied  Tobias. 

"Will  you  take  a  letter  that  I  got  at  the  post- 
office  just  now  for  her?  I  know  she  must  be  ex 
pecting  it.  Oh,  Mr.  Endicott!  is  it  you?" 

He  had  run  his  car  up  beside  the  limousine.  He 
drove  on  the  right  side,  and  so  easily  handed  the 
missive  to  Ralph. 

"I  know  she's  looking  for  it,"  Jackson  repeated. 

"Very  well,  I'll  give  it  to  her,"  said  Ralph. 

He  looked  a  second  time  at  the  handwriting  on 
the  envelope.  Then  he  put  it  into  his  pocket. 
.  He  withdrew  the  letter  from  his  pocket  again 
when,  an  hour  or  so  later,  he  and  Lorna  were  walk 
ing  across  the  sands  toward  the  path  to  the  summit 
of  the  Clay  Head.  Ralph  offered  the  letter  to  her 
with  a  little  hesitation. 

"Oh!  For  me?"  Then  she  saw  the  postmark, 
"Charlestown,  Mass.,"  and  blushed. 


A  Silver-Banded  Pipe  335 

"I  think  I  recognize  that  handwriting,  Lorna," 
Ralph  said.  "It  is  that  of  a  girl  named  Cora  Devine. 
I  do  not  know  why  she  should  write  to  you  unless 
you  opened  the  correspondence.  Is  it  so?"  he  added 
gravely. 

"Ye-es,"  admitted  Lorna. 

"I  do  not  just  know  what  your  desire  was  in 
writing  to  Miss  Devine.  If  it  was  to  learn  what 
my  interest  in  her  is,  I  will  tell  you  that.  She  was  a 
Cambridge  girl — a  mill  girl.  Silly  and  showy.  You 
know  the  kind.  She  got  into  trouble  with — with 
one  of  the  college  fellows,  and  lost  her  job.  Then 
her  father  was  harsh  to  her.  You  know  how  many 
of  that  sort  of  people  are,  I  suppose.  They  are 
strict  with  their  children  when  it  is  too  late." 

"And  who  was  the  man,  Ralph?"  Lorna  whis 
pered. 

"Well — I'm  not  much  for  telling  tales  out  of 
school.  But  now  that  he  has  gone  so  far  and  is  in 
jail,  I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  it  was  Degger." 

"Oh !  And  he  told  me  you  were  mixed  up  with 
Cora  Devine,  Ralph." 

"I  was."  And  Ralph  smiled  briefly.  "He  treated 
her  like  a  dog.  I  had  a  chance  to  help  her.  I  mere 
ly  lent  her  money.  She  worked  and  paid  me  back 
— every  cent.  Then  I  managed  to  make  her  father 
reverse  his  decision,  and  Cora  went  back  to  live  at 
home.  They  moved  to  Charlestown  to  escape 
gossip. 


336  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

"Now,  just  lately,  the  old  man  has  been  ailing 
and  they  discovered  that  to  save  his  life  he  must  be 
operated  on.  Cora  wrote  to  me  and  asked  me  for 
money  to  help.  She  says  she  will  pay  it  back.  I 
believe  she  will 

"Why,  Lorna !  you  are  tearing  that  letter  up  with 
out  reading  it." 

"I  don't  need  to  read  it." 

"But  you  would  see  by  what  she  writes  that  I  tell 
you  the  truth,"  he  urged. 

She  allowed  the  bits  of  paper  to  flutter  away 
across  the  sands.  She  turned  her  piquant  face 
toward  him  so  that  he  might  see  her  smile  and  the 
light  in  her  eyes. 

"I  need  nobody  to  guarantee  your  word,  Ralph 
Endicott,"  she  said  softly.  "I  know  you  are  one 
man  without  guile." 

The  old-fashioned  fall  flowers  in  Miss  Heppy's 
garden  (those  which  the  high  sea  had  not  torn 
away)  made  brilliant  patches  of  color  upon  the 
bleached  sand  before  the  lighthouse.  Tobias  o'  the 
Light  sat  on  the  bench  beside  the  door  nursing  a 
well-colored  pipe. 

Out  of  the  open  kitchen  door  floated  a  delicious 
odor  of  frying  doughnuts.  Miss  Heppy,  frying 
fork  in  hand  and  with  glowing  countenance,  pre 
sided  over  the  kettle  while  the  heap  of  brown  rings 


A  Silver-Banded  Pipe  337 

and  twists  grew  higher  in  the  bowl  on  the  stove 
shelf. 

"Heppy,"  her  brother  said  reflectively,  removing 
the  pipe  from  between  his  lips  to  look  at  it,  "I  car- 
late  I  will  buy  me  that  silver-banded  pipe  Si  Comp- 
ton's  got  in  his  store  case,  after  all." 

He  said  it  tentatively,  and  then  cocked  his  ear 
for  her  reply. 

"Tobias  Bassett !  air  you  a  plumb  fool  ?" 

"Not  so's  you'd  notice  it  I  ain't,  Heppy,"  he  re 
joined,  grinning. 

"I  think  you  be.  You  don't  need  a  silver-banded 
pipe  no  more  than  our  old  cat  needs  two  tails." 

"Oh,  sugar!  I  dunno.  A  cat  with  two  tails 
would  be  something  dif'rent,  I  do  allow." 

"You  was  born  looking  for  trouble,"  his  sister 
declared.  "For  love's  sake !  ain't  you  satisfied  ?  We 
got  our  money  back  safe.  Now  let  it  be  there " 

"To  git  stole  again,  mebbe?"Jie  muttered. 

"Better  be  stole  than  be  frittered  away,  like  you 
want  to.  You  don't  show  any  sense." 

"Not  any?"  he  asked  slyly.  "Not  even  when  it 
comes  to  matchmakin'?  Was  I  afraid  to  step  in 
where  you  said  angels  was  scare't  to  tread?  Tell 
me  that,  now!" 

Miss  Heppy  was  for  the  moment  silenced.  To 
bias  chuckled  unctuously. 

"And  I  killed  two  birds  with  one  stone,  didn't  I  ? 
Four  on  'em,  to  be  exact.  Don't  talk!  If  I  hadn't 


338  Tobias  o'  the  Light 

started  that  story  about  the  Nicholets  and  Endicotts 
going  stone  broke,  would  there  ever  been  a  double 
wedding  last  week  in  the  First  Church  of  Clinker- 
port,  with  Miss  Ida  and  the  professor  getting 
hitched,  and  Ralph  and  Lorna  f  ollerin'  suit  ? 

"Oh,  sugar !  I  give  it  as  my  opinion  neither  wed 
ding  would  have  come  off  if  it  hadn't  been  for  me. 
I'm  some  little — er — well!  whatever  it  was  Ralph 
Endicott  called  me.  I  cal'late  on  lookin'  up  that 
word  in  the  dictionary  some  day. 

"Anyway,"  he  concluded,  "you  got  to  agree, 
Heppy,  that  I'm  a  good  matchmaker.  Those  two 
young  folks  was  drifting  apart  just  as  their  uncle 
and  aunt  did.  And  'twas  me  got  'em  back  on  the 
right  track.  Ain't  it  a  fact,  Heppy?" 

His  sister  had  come  to  the  door  the  better  to  hear 
his  self-congratulations.  She  brought  a  big  brown 
doughnut  on  the  fork  and  this  she  dropped  into  his 
hand  as  she  smiled  down  upon  him. 

"I  dunno,  Tobias.  Maybe  you  was  pretty  shrewd 
that  time,  take  it  all  around.  I  know  Lorna  is  going 
to  be  dreadful  happy  with  her  man.  And  Miss  Ida, 
too.  Well,  I  dunno.  Maybe  you  do  deserve  that 
silver-banded  pipe,"  she  said. 


THE  END. 


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